Good Girl Quotes (22 quotes)
‘This Suffering Business’
Welcome sign in sign up. The selected letters of Elizabeth Bishop edited by Robert Giroux and of Robert Lowell edited by Saskia Hamilton have been warmly praised and much quoted by biographers and critics. The poets were often geographically very distant from each other Lowell in America, Bishop in Brazil; Lowell in England, Bishop in America ; and even when they were on the same continent, they were rarely in the same state Lowell in New York, Bishop in Oregon or Massachusetts. If they were to continue to be friends, it would have to be chiefly on the page; but each was so essential to the other that the correspondence—sometimes delayed, but always resumed—was never allowed to die. To read through the eight hundred pages of this edition is of course unnatural; it exists to be looked into, to be browsed in, to be leafed through. In absorbing this long relationship, the reader is greatly helped by the detailed annotation of the letters: Travisano and Hamilton have minutely identified every poem, every article, every person, every event mentioned by the poets. Since many of the most significant literary letters had already been singled out by biographers and critics, even before the publication of the individual letter-editions, what remains to be gleaned from this new overview?
Elizabeth Bishop, then 35, and Robert Lowell, almost 30, met in at a dinner in New York City hosted by Randall Jarrell. They struck up an.
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One poet writes to another.
Tony-nominated dramatist Sarah Ruhl "The Clean House," "Eurydice" has done it for you in "Dear Elizabeth," an epistolary play culled from 30 years of letters shot back and forth between poets Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell, who were connected at the hip but seldom in the same geographical place. Not that in "Dear Elizabeth" the two subjects sit together behind a table like Spalding Gray seen double, as with "Love Letters. Nora Long on a whimsical jumble of a set by Shelley Barish, a cabin-like, cranny-filled structure awash in subtitles denoting places and dates and supported by a pillar of books. Remember books? Then you probably also remember letters, and this elegant compilation of epistles, plopped into an age of shorthand, tweets, and emoticons, made me sorely miss them. Bishop and Lowell, both with strong New England ties, met in when she was 36 and he was Theirs was a friendship, never a love affair: Lowell was married three times, to writers Jean Stafford, Elizabeth Hardwick, and Lady Caroline Blackwood; Bishop was a lesbian, the love of whose life was Brazilian architect Lota de Macedo Soares.
L ike another Elizabeth and Robert before them, Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell were in love; but they had more formidable obstacles to cope with than Elizabeth Barrett's and Robert Browning's comparatively tame encounters with Victorian respectability. For one thing, they were not lovers, in the conventional sense: Bishop's homosexuality was unswayed by Lowell's heterosexual charms. Also, for almost all of their year relationship, the two located themselves far apart, with their own partners and wives, Bishop for much of the time in Brazil, and Lowell in Boston, New York and, towards the end, in England. Potentially the worst obstacle was the fact that they were the two best American poets of their time, something clear enough to each of them and to plenty of their contemporaries. What wasn't quite so clear then was that Bishop was also a very major poet by comparison with Lowell: Bishop herself seems not to have known this - or maybe did not want to know it - while Lowell, in his more lucid critical moments, could see its truth.
A poet should never fall in love with another poet — love is already too much like gambling on oil futures. Real lovers, Shakespeare long ago reminded us, have reeking breath and hair like a scouring pad. Many would-be lovers have been divided by family, law or plain bad luck; before the days of long-distance phone calls or e-mail, the sublimated affair was conducted by postage stamp. As poets, Lowell and Bishop could not have been more different. His heavy-handed youthful verse, solemnly influenced by Allen Tate, laid down a metrical line like iron rail. Her whimsical eye and wry, worried poems condemned her to be treated like a minor disciple of Marianne Moore.