There is in the soul a desire for not thinking./ For being still./ Coupled with this a desire to be strict./ Yes, and rigorous./ But the soul is also a smooth son of a hitch./ Not always trustworthy and I forget that. - Raymond Carver. His later work, post-recovery, is his best in my opinion. Hopeful, heart-filled, a keen precision of love's extraction. And what do we do with a love we've removed from a hard-to-get place? We share it.
A rich collection of poems from not only “one of the great short story writers of our time” (The Philadelphia Inquirer), but one of America’s most large-hearted and affecting poets.
Like Raymond Carver’s stories, the more than 300 poems in All of Us are marked by a keen attention to the physical world; an uncanny ability to compress vast feeling into discreet moments; a voice of conversational intimacy, and an unstinting sympathy.
This complete edition brings together all the poems of Carver’s five previous books, from Fires to the posthumously published No Heroics, Please. It also contains bibliographical and textual notes on individual poems; a chronology of Carver’s life and work; and a moving introduction by Carver’s widow, the poet Tess Gallagher.
About the Author
RAYMOND CARVER was born in Clatskanie, Oregon, in 1938. His first collection of stories, Will You Please Be Quiet, Please (a National Book Award nominee in 1977), was followed by What We Talk About When We Talk About Love, Cathedral (nominated for the Pulitzer Prize in 1984), and Where I'm Calling From in 1988, when he was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters. He died August 2, 1988, shortly after completing the poems of A New Path to the Waterfall.
"His eye is so clear, it almost breaks your heart." —The Washington Post Book World
"The best poems play like short stories in miniature, small heartrending scenes that resonate with telling detail...the lyrical reflections in his poems are as much a part of his formidable legacy as his incomparable stories." —The Philadelphia Inquirer
"Carver's poetry is like an almost invisible strand of fishing line reeling us all together, connecting us by the heart." —San Francisco Examiner and Chronicle