Berryman’s Sonnets by John Berryman (PDF)

Description

A brilliant and fiercely pitched sonnet cycle about love: at once passionate, forbidden, and doomed John Berryman was an unconventional poet, but he must have surprised even himself when, in his thirties, he found he was suddenly compelled to write sonnets. It was an unusual choice—even an unpopular one—for a poet in a midcentury American literary scene that was less interested in forms. But it was the right choice, for Berryman found himself in a situation that called for the sonnet: after several years of a happy marriage, he had fallen helplessly, hopelessly in love with the young wife of a colleague. “Passion sought; passion requited; passion delayed; and, finally, passion utterly thwarted”: this is how the poet April Bernard, in her vivid, intimate introduction, characterizes the sonnet cycle, and it is the cycle that Berryman found himself caught up in. Of course the affair was doomed to end, and end badly. But in the meantime, on the page Berryman performs a spectacular dance of tender, obsessive, impossible love in his “characteristic tonal mixture of bravado and lacerating shame-facedness.” Here is the poet as lover, genius, and also, in Bernard’s words, as nutcase. In Berryman’s Sonnets, the poet draws on the models of Petrarch and Sidney to reanimate and reimagine the love-sonnet sequence. Complex, passionate, filled with verbal fireworks and the emotional strains of joy, terror, guilt, and longing, these poems are ripe for rediscovery by contemporary readers.

User’s Reviews

Reviews from Amazon users which were colected at the time this book was published on the website:

⭐The introduction by April Bernard is superb, and you can breeze through this book in a couple sittings, which is not recommended for Dream Songs! Keeping a dictionary nearby is recommended, if you find yourself wondering what a calenture is or what the verb to gride means. Berryman wrote these sonnets during an intense extramarital affair, and the gems amid the tangle are definitely worth picking up:…Blood of my sweet unrestRuns all the same – I am in love with you -Trapped in my ribcage something throes and aches!…I am this strange thing I despised; you are.To become ourselves we are these wayward things.And the lies at noon, months’ tremblings, who foresaw?

⭐Excellent service. I am very satisfied with the book.

⭐AS PROMISED

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