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The Sonnetarium - (VIA Folios) by Lewis Turco (Paperback)
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Highlights
- THE FOREWORD BLUESWesli Court said I should write a book, A bunch of blues--enough to fill a book, And he'd design the cover.
- Author(s): Lewis Turco
- 114 Pages
- Poetry, American
- Series Name: VIA Folios
Description
Book Synopsis
THE FOREWORD BLUES
Wesli Court said I should write a book,
A bunch of blues--enough to fill a book,
And he'd design the cover. I said, "Look,
If you'll write half of them, then I will choose
A ball-point pen, a felt-tip--I will choose
To join you in a modicum of blues."
And that's the reason, Reader, we are here--
You, Wes and me--we three assembled here
Among these turning leaves yellow and sere.
We hope you'll think the words we write are fine,
Our writing bold and dark, but our wordage fine . . .,
At least we hope you'll like the cover design.
Envoy Epilogue
Go, little book of sorrows, cares and woes,
But Wesli's gone. Where? Only goodness knows.
Review Quotes
In a book which is - you guessed it - all sonnets, Lewis Turco puts a vast amount of variety into 14 lines. He likes to use four triplets instead of the traditional three quatrains, resulting in more space for the story. Some poems have repeated lines that turn them into sonnet blues (Santa Claus is "sporting red but swinging blue"). There are wildly inventive rhymes such as extra virgin/extroversion and used etude/desuetude, and new words (my favorite is "smallage"). And bizarre topics such as how to make love to a mermaid ("Prufrock's Dream") give way to the stunning seriousness of "The Unremembered". In short, you'll stay entertained to the end of the final page.
-- Gail White
Although the sonnet may not be the most fashionable of forms in these dark days, there are the wondrous ones of Robert Frost and others who have entered its deep maze. This Sonnetarium of my friend Lew is one example of the living form, and there are others. At times I wonder who said sonnets were fit vittles for a worm. With this key Turco unlocks his heart, engaging readers with these witty, passionate, unerring samples of a poet's art. The sonnet!--Is there any cash in it? Its branches grow and grow and are dendritic. Just touch these suns. Scorn not the sonnet, Critic.
-- Jack Foley