The Nightfields, Joanna Klink
The Nightfields, Joanna Klink
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The Nightfields

Author: Joanna Klink

Narrator: Joanna Klink

Unabridged: 1 hr 28 min

Format: Digital Audiobook Download

Publisher: Recorded Books

Published: 07/07/2020


Synopsis

A new collection from a poet who has made "a body of work at once utterly lucid and breathtakingly urgent" (Louise Glück).

Joanna Klink's fifth book begins with personal poems of loss--a tree ripped out by a windstorm, a friendship broken off after decades, the nearing death of parents. Other poems take on the cost of not loving fully, or are written from disbelief at the accumulation of losses and at the mercilessness of having, as one ages, to rule things out. There are elegies for friends, and a group of devotional poems. The Nightfields closes with "Night Sky," thirty metaphysical poems inspired by the artist James Turrell's Roden Crater, an extinct volcano in Arizona that Turrell has been transforming into an open-air observatory for the perception of time. The sequence unfolds as a series of revelations that begin in psychic fear and move gradually toward a sense of infinitude and connection.

Reviews

Goodreads review by Scarlet

(…) a deadness in me now utterly mine Beautiful! Gorgeous! Exquisite! Not that this surprises me in the least, because I'm convinced that Joanna Klink could never write a bad poem. I still love her collections Excerpts from a Secret Prophecy and Raptus a tiny bit more, but I'm madly in love with all he......more

Goodreads review by Paul

A masterpiece. I am moving Joanna Klink up into my contemporary American poetry pantheon. Briefly described, the book is about loss (a painful breakup, a 90-year-old blue spruce uprooted by a windstorm, the death of her father) and looking at the night sky. That is, the book is about two of poetry's......more

Goodreads review by Allison

Reading Joanna Klink’s poems require of me a clear headspace that is often hard won these days. That said, when I am in that headspace, I am always entranced by her lines. Often ethereal, they strike a deep cord. “Most weeks I am no more than the color of the walls / in the room where we sit...” “Eac......more