What do you think?
Rate this book
Elephant Rocks: Poems
The former US Poet Laureate shares “fine poems that inspire us with poetry’s greatest the music of language and the force of wisdom� (Annie Dillard, Pulitzer Prize–winning author).
Elephant Rocks , Kay Ryan’s third book of verse, shows a virtuoso practitioner at the top of her form. Engaging and secretive, provocative and profound, Ryan’s poems have generated growing excitement with their appearances in The New Yorker and other leading periodicals. Sometimes gaudily ornamental, sometimes Shaker-plain, here is verse that is compact on the page and expansive in the mind.
“Kay Ryan makes it all fresh again with her highly original vision, her elegant, quirky craft. These poems look easy, but the deeper one delves, the more they astonish and astound.� —May Sarton, New York Times –bestselling author of At Eighty-Two
“Kay Ryan works toward an exciting art, much less sparse than it looks. This is natural history seen from an angle of vision that Emerson and Dickinson would have approved. It refreshes me to find poems that require and reward rereading as much as these do.� —Harold Bloom, literary critic and author of The Bright Book of Life
“The music of these poems is every bit as seductive as their reasoning. Her thinking flaunts the plush, irresistible textures of organic growth... Marvelous.� � Boston Review
“These poems show a poet who is terribly sly in her reckoning of our world.� —David St. John, author of The Last New and Selected Poems
“So original, so astute, so pleasurable are the poems in this book, it wouldn’t be at all surprising if they’re still being read long after current critical fashions are dated.� � Poetry
Elephant Rocks , Kay Ryan’s third book of verse, shows a virtuoso practitioner at the top of her form. Engaging and secretive, provocative and profound, Ryan’s poems have generated growing excitement with their appearances in The New Yorker and other leading periodicals. Sometimes gaudily ornamental, sometimes Shaker-plain, here is verse that is compact on the page and expansive in the mind.
“Kay Ryan makes it all fresh again with her highly original vision, her elegant, quirky craft. These poems look easy, but the deeper one delves, the more they astonish and astound.� —May Sarton, New York Times –bestselling author of At Eighty-Two
“Kay Ryan works toward an exciting art, much less sparse than it looks. This is natural history seen from an angle of vision that Emerson and Dickinson would have approved. It refreshes me to find poems that require and reward rereading as much as these do.� —Harold Bloom, literary critic and author of The Bright Book of Life
“The music of these poems is every bit as seductive as their reasoning. Her thinking flaunts the plush, irresistible textures of organic growth... Marvelous.� � Boston Review
“These poems show a poet who is terribly sly in her reckoning of our world.� —David St. John, author of The Last New and Selected Poems
“So original, so astute, so pleasurable are the poems in this book, it wouldn’t be at all surprising if they’re still being read long after current critical fashions are dated.� � Poetry
- GenresPoetry
96 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1996
10 people are currently reading
151 people want to read
About the author
Kay Ryan
37books168followersBorn in California in 1945 and acknowledged as one of the most original voices in the contemporary landscape, Kay Ryan is the author of several books of poetry, including Flamingo Watching (2006), The Niagara River (2005), and Say Uncle (2000). Her book The Best of It: New and Selected Poems (2010) won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry.
Ryan's tightly compressed, rhythmically dense poetry is often compared to that of Emily Dickinson and Marianne Moore; however, Ryan’s often barbed wit and unique facility with “recombinant� rhyme has earned her the status of one of the great living American poets, and led to her appointment as U.S. Poet Laureate in 2008. She held the position for two terms, using the appointment to champion community colleges like the one in Marin County, California where she and her partner Carol Adair taught for over thirty years. In an interview with the Washington City Paper at the end of tenure, Ryan called herself a “whistle-blower� who “advocated for much underpraised and underfunded community colleges across the nation.�
Ryan’s surprising laureateship capped years of outsider-status in the poetry world. Her quizzical, philosophical, often mordant poetry is a product of years of thought. Ryan has said that her poems do not start with imagery or sound, but rather develop “the way an oyster does, with an aggravation.� Critic Meghan O’Rourke has written of her work: “Each poem twists around and back upon its argument like a river retracing its path; they are didactic in spirit, but a bedrock wit supports them.� “Sharks� Teeth� displays that meandering approach to her subject matter, which, Ryan says, “gives my poems a coolness. I can touch things that are very hot because I’ve given them some distance.�
Kay Ryan is the recipient of several major awards, including fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Ingram Merrill Foundation, and the Guggenheim Foundation. She has received the Union League Poetry Prize and the Maurice English Poetry Award, as well as the Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize. Since 2006 she has served as a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets.
Ryan's tightly compressed, rhythmically dense poetry is often compared to that of Emily Dickinson and Marianne Moore; however, Ryan’s often barbed wit and unique facility with “recombinant� rhyme has earned her the status of one of the great living American poets, and led to her appointment as U.S. Poet Laureate in 2008. She held the position for two terms, using the appointment to champion community colleges like the one in Marin County, California where she and her partner Carol Adair taught for over thirty years. In an interview with the Washington City Paper at the end of tenure, Ryan called herself a “whistle-blower� who “advocated for much underpraised and underfunded community colleges across the nation.�
Ryan’s surprising laureateship capped years of outsider-status in the poetry world. Her quizzical, philosophical, often mordant poetry is a product of years of thought. Ryan has said that her poems do not start with imagery or sound, but rather develop “the way an oyster does, with an aggravation.� Critic Meghan O’Rourke has written of her work: “Each poem twists around and back upon its argument like a river retracing its path; they are didactic in spirit, but a bedrock wit supports them.� “Sharks� Teeth� displays that meandering approach to her subject matter, which, Ryan says, “gives my poems a coolness. I can touch things that are very hot because I’ve given them some distance.�
Kay Ryan is the recipient of several major awards, including fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Ingram Merrill Foundation, and the Guggenheim Foundation. She has received the Union League Poetry Prize and the Maurice English Poetry Award, as well as the Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize. Since 2006 she has served as a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews
November 9, 2008
While I am waiting until I meet with my poetry reading group to pass final judgment on this early Kay Ryan book, I was a bit disappointed in it.I enjoyed the Niagra River much, much better.
In Elephant Rock's I sometimes found her wordplay and quirky rhyme schemes more annoying than elucidating--distracting and pulling me out of the poems.
There were some poems I rather liked, such as her piece "Hope" where her wordplay comes up with some new and wonderful ways of looking at the concept hope "the always tabled/ righting of the present."
For the most part, however, while I recognized the technical skill inherent in these poems, I was unmoved by them. To me they seemed more "language poetry" than anything else--a kind of poetry I'm not overly fond of. I'll be interested in the opinions of my fellow book club colleagues, who often have perspectives that make me change my mind a bit.
In Elephant Rock's I sometimes found her wordplay and quirky rhyme schemes more annoying than elucidating--distracting and pulling me out of the poems.
There were some poems I rather liked, such as her piece "Hope" where her wordplay comes up with some new and wonderful ways of looking at the concept hope "the always tabled/ righting of the present."
For the most part, however, while I recognized the technical skill inherent in these poems, I was unmoved by them. To me they seemed more "language poetry" than anything else--a kind of poetry I'm not overly fond of. I'll be interested in the opinions of my fellow book club colleagues, who often have perspectives that make me change my mind a bit.
November 30, 2019
Having just finished Elephant Rocks, and as a great admirer of Kay Ryan, I was somewhat underwhelmed by this book.
Perhaps a thematic thread that ran through most of the poems gave an unexcitement as I turned the page to the next poem. Expectations expected and not met? For sure there are gems in this book, but I believe her strongest work was in her book Say Uncle, followed by The Niagara River.
Perhaps a thematic thread that ran through most of the poems gave an unexcitement as I turned the page to the next poem. Expectations expected and not met? For sure there are gems in this book, but I believe her strongest work was in her book Say Uncle, followed by The Niagara River.
August 14, 2020
I loved all the poems in this collection, the earliest collection of poems published by Kay Ryan (1996) that my library had. I was inspired to read her poetry after reading an old interview with her for The Paris Review and wanted to do so somewhat chronologically, even though she has three collections published earlier than this one that I’ll have to track down elsewhere� Apparently her first collection is called Dragon Acts to Dragon Ends so� *definitely* going to need that one�
I thought her poems were all very original and unlike anything I’ve ever read before. They had the cadence at times of rap songs and the very subtle rhyme schemes gave them a rhythm that brought an extra dimension to the words and imageries of the poems. I often found myself unconsciously speaking the poems aloud. I read each poem many times in a row and discovered a different layer every time.
My favorites were:
Cirque—“that even lakes / so pure / should start opaque, / that something / always / has to recombine / or sink.�
Chemistry—“Words especially / are subject to / the chemistry / of death…�
All Shall Be Restored—“And every word written shall lift off / letter by letter, the backward text / read ever briefer, ever more antic / in its effort to insist that nothing / shall be lost.�
Outsider Art—“…We are not / pleased the way we thought / we would be pleased.�
Caught—“it isn’t impolite / to cough. / Our life / is at risk. / But there are / so many wrong thoughts / we refuse to release / massaging / our own throats / like pâté geese.� I read this poem as a discussion of an individual’s journey to self-educate and unlearn harmful, conditioned behaviors in the context of their privilege. It really spoke to me.
Against Gravity—“Because we’re glad some mornings, / and buoyant, as though we had / no bombs or appointments.�
Insult—“We need insult to remind us / that we aren’t always just hurt, / that there are some sources� / even in the self, parts of which / tread on other parts with such boldness / that we must say, You must stop this.�
To Explain the Solitary—“It’s easy to think a moor or heath / or penury or a limp or a strain / of madness in the family could explain / the solitary…�
I also liked “Dew�, “Bestiary�, “The Cabinet of Curiosities�, and “Any Morning�.
Really every poem reads like some sort of crux of wisdom, handed down subconsciously through the infinite ages of the human soul. I definitely need to own a copy of this collection.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I thought her poems were all very original and unlike anything I’ve ever read before. They had the cadence at times of rap songs and the very subtle rhyme schemes gave them a rhythm that brought an extra dimension to the words and imageries of the poems. I often found myself unconsciously speaking the poems aloud. I read each poem many times in a row and discovered a different layer every time.
My favorites were:
Cirque—“that even lakes / so pure / should start opaque, / that something / always / has to recombine / or sink.�
Chemistry—“Words especially / are subject to / the chemistry / of death…�
All Shall Be Restored—“And every word written shall lift off / letter by letter, the backward text / read ever briefer, ever more antic / in its effort to insist that nothing / shall be lost.�
Outsider Art—“…We are not / pleased the way we thought / we would be pleased.�
Caught—“it isn’t impolite / to cough. / Our life / is at risk. / But there are / so many wrong thoughts / we refuse to release / massaging / our own throats / like pâté geese.� I read this poem as a discussion of an individual’s journey to self-educate and unlearn harmful, conditioned behaviors in the context of their privilege. It really spoke to me.
Against Gravity—“Because we’re glad some mornings, / and buoyant, as though we had / no bombs or appointments.�
Insult—“We need insult to remind us / that we aren’t always just hurt, / that there are some sources� / even in the self, parts of which / tread on other parts with such boldness / that we must say, You must stop this.�
To Explain the Solitary—“It’s easy to think a moor or heath / or penury or a limp or a strain / of madness in the family could explain / the solitary…�
I also liked “Dew�, “Bestiary�, “The Cabinet of Curiosities�, and “Any Morning�.
Really every poem reads like some sort of crux of wisdom, handed down subconsciously through the infinite ages of the human soul. I definitely need to own a copy of this collection.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
April 2, 2019
She's phenomenal. There's no one else like her.
How Birds Sing
One is not taxed;
one need not practice;
one simply tips
the throat back
over the spine axis
and asserts the chest.
The wings and the rest
compress a musical
squeeze which floats
a series of notes
upon the breeze.
How Birds Sing
One is not taxed;
one need not practice;
one simply tips
the throat back
over the spine axis
and asserts the chest.
The wings and the rest
compress a musical
squeeze which floats
a series of notes
upon the breeze.
April 27, 2020
Special recognition for “Why Isn’t It All More Marked� and “Insult.�
This is not
a random fracture
that would have happened
to any leg out there;
this was a conscious unkindness.
October 6, 2023
I’m a Kay Ryan fan but this was underwhelming tbh � always appreciate the simplicity/tightness of her poems & her gentle but convicted ethos re: human resilience etc tho
August 29, 2016
This was my introduction to Kay Ryan. I found this book in perfect condition, hard copy, at my favorite used bookstore for $1. So why not, I thought.
These poems are aphoristic and overly didactic, written in a way that claims to have all the Big Truths about Everything Ever. Throughout my reading, I kept imagining a very old man making proclamations atop a mountain, as if it were Moses and the Ten Commandments. If this wasn't written on a stone tablet, it was definitely written on a scroll. Here you will find poems such as "Age," "Silence," and "Intransigence," which are all exactly what their titles say. There’s little more to it than that. There's hardly any real imagery at all, nothing to evoke the senses. It is all written in complete abstracts, and because of that, I felt absolutely zero emotion while reading this. Ryan attempts this very impartial perspective, a bird's eye view. But as a result, there is nothing personal to be found. It is detached and indifferent. It isn’t angry or ecstatic. If you want any kind of narrative or personality, you should probably look elsewhere.
Ryan employs quite a lot of internal rhyming, which I found to be a confusing choice. Whimsical wordplay seems at odds with the subject matter and tone. It turns out to be very jarring and distracting rather than complementary.
Fortunately, other reviewers claim this isn't her best work. However, after finishing this, I’ve very little interest in reading anything else, simply because I assume it's going to be more of the same. Just maybe a better version of this. So unless the rest is radically different in terms of form, tone, approach, and style, I think I’ll pass. This is essentially the opposite of what I find appealing in poetry.
I guess one good thing about her poems is that they’re all very short and compact, so if you find them excruciating, that pain is short-lived.
But I want my $1 back.
These poems are aphoristic and overly didactic, written in a way that claims to have all the Big Truths about Everything Ever. Throughout my reading, I kept imagining a very old man making proclamations atop a mountain, as if it were Moses and the Ten Commandments. If this wasn't written on a stone tablet, it was definitely written on a scroll. Here you will find poems such as "Age," "Silence," and "Intransigence," which are all exactly what their titles say. There’s little more to it than that. There's hardly any real imagery at all, nothing to evoke the senses. It is all written in complete abstracts, and because of that, I felt absolutely zero emotion while reading this. Ryan attempts this very impartial perspective, a bird's eye view. But as a result, there is nothing personal to be found. It is detached and indifferent. It isn’t angry or ecstatic. If you want any kind of narrative or personality, you should probably look elsewhere.
Ryan employs quite a lot of internal rhyming, which I found to be a confusing choice. Whimsical wordplay seems at odds with the subject matter and tone. It turns out to be very jarring and distracting rather than complementary.
Fortunately, other reviewers claim this isn't her best work. However, after finishing this, I’ve very little interest in reading anything else, simply because I assume it's going to be more of the same. Just maybe a better version of this. So unless the rest is radically different in terms of form, tone, approach, and style, I think I’ll pass. This is essentially the opposite of what I find appealing in poetry.
I guess one good thing about her poems is that they’re all very short and compact, so if you find them excruciating, that pain is short-lived.
But I want my $1 back.
June 6, 2007
Why Isn't It All More Marked
Why isn't it all
more marked,
why isn't every wall
graffitied, every park tree
stripped like the
stark limbs
in the house of
the chimpanzees?
Why is there bark
left? Why do people
cling to their
shortening shrifts
like rafts? So
silent.
Not why people are;
why not more violent?
We must be
so absorbent.
We must be
almost crystals,
almost all some
neutralizing chemical
that really does
clarify and bring peace,
take black sorrow
and make surcease.
Why isn't it all
more marked,
why isn't every wall
graffitied, every park tree
stripped like the
stark limbs
in the house of
the chimpanzees?
Why is there bark
left? Why do people
cling to their
shortening shrifts
like rafts? So
silent.
Not why people are;
why not more violent?
We must be
so absorbent.
We must be
almost crystals,
almost all some
neutralizing chemical
that really does
clarify and bring peace,
take black sorrow
and make surcease.
January 29, 2021
So often when I'm reading a book of poems, I'll bookmark or fold over a page of my particular favorite poems. At some point I realized that fully 85% or more of the pages in this book were folded over.
I really like how "easy" her style is. For someone still new to poetry it never felt particularly difficult to grasp. But there is so much musicality and meter and interesting rhyme schemes going on, and that "simplicity" is used to explore very complex depths.
I really like how "easy" her style is. For someone still new to poetry it never felt particularly difficult to grasp. But there is so much musicality and meter and interesting rhyme schemes going on, and that "simplicity" is used to explore very complex depths.
August 11, 2012
While the random hard rhyming,
that didn't seem to follow much of a pattern
or hold much of a reason to be there,
did throw me off a bit, still,
I do have to say that there are veins of gold
to be found among these rocks.
Keep looking. Read them twice. Or more.
that didn't seem to follow much of a pattern
or hold much of a reason to be there,
did throw me off a bit, still,
I do have to say that there are veins of gold
to be found among these rocks.
Keep looking. Read them twice. Or more.
May 30, 2007
interesting, how a thought thinks
March 15, 2024
Haven't responded this positively to a poetry collection in a while. The blurbs on the back compare Ryan to Dickinson. This would be an unfair burden for any writer to bear, but Ryan lives up to it. Her use of language is similarly playful and compressed, and no matter how many times you re-read a given poem, you still have the sense that it hasn't fully given up its secrets. I'm linking a screenshot of "Mirage Oasis" below, because it's a pretty typical example of how she's working.
I picked up this edition from a used bookstore--whoever owned this copy before me left most of the pages clean, but marked up three of these poems with a pretty impressive degree of obsession. I get it, man.
I picked up this edition from a used bookstore--whoever owned this copy before me left most of the pages clean, but marked up three of these poems with a pretty impressive degree of obsession. I get it, man.
July 3, 2024
Reading this book was like being able to breathe clean air again after a long struggle in smog. This may not be Ryan's best, but even her mediocre is better than most others.
Living with Stripes
In tigers, zebras,
and other striped creatures,
any casual posture
plays one beautful set of lines
against another:
herringbones and arrows
appear and disappear;
chevrons widen and narrow.
Miniature themes and counterpoints
occur in the flexing and extending
of the smaller joints.
How can they stand to drink,
when lapping further complicates
the way the water duplicates their lines?
Knowing how their heads will zigzag out,
I wonder if they dread to start sometimes.
September 25, 2023
Living with Stripes
In tigers, zebras,
and other striped creatures,
any casual posture
plays one beautiful set of lines
against another:
herringbones and arrows
appear and disappear;
chevrons widen and narrow.
Miniature themes and counterpoints
occur in the flexing and extending
of the smaller joints.
How can they stand to drink,
when lapping further complicates
the way the water duplicates their lines?
Knowing how their heads will zigzag out,
I wonder if they dread to start sometimes.
In tigers, zebras,
and other striped creatures,
any casual posture
plays one beautiful set of lines
against another:
herringbones and arrows
appear and disappear;
chevrons widen and narrow.
Miniature themes and counterpoints
occur in the flexing and extending
of the smaller joints.
How can they stand to drink,
when lapping further complicates
the way the water duplicates their lines?
Knowing how their heads will zigzag out,
I wonder if they dread to start sometimes.
October 10, 2024
My first Kay Ryan book - it was OK. I find her use of words sometimes playful. Some of these poems were meaningful for me, some were not.
Moving on to her later poetry, which multiple reviewers liked better.
Moving on to her later poetry, which multiple reviewers liked better.
March 21, 2019
Libraries are wonderful! How lucky to have access to all the books, and all the poetry. This one is great, but no surprise there.
February 22, 2020
I liked the poems but I’m new enough to poetry and symbolism that I got lost with some of them. Love the title.
October 27, 2022
She’s a genius
May 2, 2023
One star for the one poem I liked (on page 19)
December 22, 2023
Fun. A few really good poems in this collection. Ryan’s playfulness with language is what breathes life into even the simplest poem.
August 15, 2020
These poems sneak up on you. Sly, arch, and epigrammatic, they are little gems to be marveled over again and again. I love the buried and recombinant rhymes. I learn more about music reading Kay Ryan than I do with most poets.
February 19, 2014
I really enjoyed the way this poet thinks and plays with words and thoughts, the ideas that no one else has ever thought, or it seems that way. How time could reverse, and gather up the grains of sand and restore them to the rock then the cliff then the bedrock of the continental plates. No "half-measure," and isn't that the way to live your life? She asks 'Not why people are violent', why aren't more people violent or why aren't they more violent, or why isn't the world scarred and marked to indicate how violent it could all be? Her truth about mourners, who 'rehearse' the past, or what has led to the past, or how it all happened, creating and recreating the truth so there is relief from sorrow. In "counsel," the idea that the physical body has exact requirements and needs that can't be fooled; even if you doctor recommends an iron supplement, your body has to be tricked into absorbing it with Vitamin C: because all it really wants is meat. "Silence is not snow, it cannot grow deeper." That makes me sink into memories of snow, of a recent snowshoe where my dog and I were floating on 6 feet of fluffy snow, and I think I disagree, silence can grow deeper and richer in perfect communion with nature or a loved one. Great, short, succinct poems that make you think, perfect...
All Shall Be Restored
The grains shall be collected
From the thousand shores
To which they found their way,
And the boulder restored,
And the boulder itself replaced
In the cliff, and likewise
The cliff shall rise
Or subside until the plate of earth
Is without fissure. Restoration
Knows no half-measure. It will
Not stop when the treasure and lost
Bronze horse remounts the steps.
Even this horse will founder backward
To coin, cannon, and domestic pots,
Which themselves shall bubble and
Drain back to green veins in stone.
And every word written shall lift off
Letter by letter, the backward text
Read ever briefer, ever more antic
In its effort to insist that nothing
Shall be lost.
Why Isn't It All More Marked?
Why isn’t it all
more marked,
why isn’t every wall
graffitied, every park tree
stripped like the
stark limbs
in the house of
the chimpanzees?
Why is there bark
Left? Why do people
Cling to their
Shortening shrifts? So
Silent.
Not why people are;
Why not more violent?
We must be
So absorbent.
We must be
Almost crystals
Almost all some
Neutralizing chemical
That really does
Clarify and bring peace,
Take black sorrow
and make surcease.
Witness
Never trust a witness.
By the time a thing is
Noticed, it has happened.
Some magician’s redirected
Our attention to the rabbit.
The best life is suspected,
Not examined.
And never trust reverse.
The mourners of the dead
Count backward from the date
Of the event, rehearsing
Its approach, investing
Final words with greatest weight,
As though weight ever
Carried what we meant:
As though he could have
Told us where he went.
Lacunae
Lacunae aren’t
What was going to be
Empty anyway.
They aren’t spaces
With uses, such
As margins or highway edges.
Lacunae are losses
In the middle of places-
Drops where something
Documented happened
But the document is
Gone-pond shaped
Or jagged.
Counsel
It is possible
That even the best counsel
Cannot be processed
By the body.
All supplements to
Our personal chemistry
Are screened by tiny
Fanatical secret organs
That refuse much more than
They accept. It is hard
To add even minerals.
Iron tablets, for example,
Are not correct
And pass through us like
Windowless alien crafts.
What the body wants is so exact.
Silence
Silence is not snow.
It cannot grow
Deeper. A thousand years
Of it are thinner
Than paper. So
We must have it
All wrong
When we feel trapped
Like mastodons.
Losses
Most losses add something-
A new socket or silence,
A gap in a personal
Archipelago of islands.
We have that difference
To visit- itself
A going-on of sorts.
But there are other losses
So far beyond report
That they leave holes
In holes only
Like the ends of the
Long and lonely lives
Of castaways
Thought dead but not.
The Woman Who Wrote Too Much
I have written
Over the doors
Of the various
Houses and stores
Where friends
And supplies were.
Now I can’t
Located them anymore
And must shout
general appeals
In the street.
It is a miracle
to me now-
when a piece
of the structure unseals
and there is a dear one,
coming out,
with something
for me to eat.
February 18, 2009
This was my first exposure to Kay Ryan -- I got it after hearing her on NPR after she became poet laureate. I was moved by the poem "Niagara" on the radio, which is indeed quite a nice poem.
There are a number of very nice poems in this book -- she has a sense of dark humor undergirding her writing that I very much appreciate (it reminds me of another favorite of mine -- Mark Strand).
The one complaint I have with her is her occasional use of overt rhyme, which just felt sloppy to me. Like many modern poets, she can be quite crisp and clean with the occasional slant-rhyme and the neat lining up of more subtle sound-patterns. Occasionally though she'll lead of a poem with a feminine rhyme or another strong "rhymey" rhyme pattern. Now I actually love structure in poems, but these little plays never gave-way to a full on rhyme scheme or structure, so they just felt like mistakes to me (much as rhyme in prose feels like a mistake).
There are a number of very nice poems in this book -- she has a sense of dark humor undergirding her writing that I very much appreciate (it reminds me of another favorite of mine -- Mark Strand).
The one complaint I have with her is her occasional use of overt rhyme, which just felt sloppy to me. Like many modern poets, she can be quite crisp and clean with the occasional slant-rhyme and the neat lining up of more subtle sound-patterns. Occasionally though she'll lead of a poem with a feminine rhyme or another strong "rhymey" rhyme pattern. Now I actually love structure in poems, but these little plays never gave-way to a full on rhyme scheme or structure, so they just felt like mistakes to me (much as rhyme in prose feels like a mistake).
August 14, 2012
Who writes those descriptions at the top of page? This does NOT show Ryan at the "top of her game." It's OK, but nowhere near her current work. It was interesting to see the kind of thing she's written in the past, but don't consider this an introduction to her work. I found the weird rhymes and rhythms to be distracting.
July 9, 2014
I'm not one for books of Poetry; however, I've recently surprised myself by, by chance, picking up this book as well as "The House on Mango Street" both were attention=grabbing, with this one being more clever while Mango Street was more haunting--oh, and I'm trying to make a really long run-on sentence on purpose; thanks for reading!
August 11, 2009
While I very much liked Ryan's style of poetry writing, I found this work a little uneven. The best piece by far is the poem for which the book is titled - "Elephant Rocks." It was wise to end with that poem because the reader then leaves with a positive impression of the book as a whole.
February 17, 2009
Ms. Ryan, now the poet laureate of the US (PLotUS?) creates lovely imagery in her poems. Some are whimsical, and others more serious and pondering in nature. The book is a quick read, which and a nice reintroduction to poetry for someone who has not read much in a while.
July 3, 2009
I am a Ryan fan, generally. Her other books are very good. This one, however, didn't do it for me. I would attempt to say why, except that Donna (see her review) essentially took the words out of my mouth (or, should I say, my fingers.)
April 7, 2010
Kay Ryan is a clever, precise poet. Her poems are always short & crisp. She reminds me in a way of Mary Oliver. But her poems aren't beautiful like Oliver's, just clever. So, it's fun to read her poems, but I don't have to read them again & again like I do Mary Oliver's poetry.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 48 reviews
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get help and learn more about the design.