Lorna CrozierBesprekingen

Pretty gritty stuff. Good for the grieving but not a cheery read...

"... Keep remembering," she said. "You don't get another chance."

The last chapter was absolutely brilliant, and among tender recollections are instances of the first cause, many, and these all are an act of the highest poetic sight.

My first read of Crozier's. Won't be my last.

I've heard Lorna Crozier interviewed a number of times but I don't recall hearing that she grew up in Saskatchewan in the city of Swift Current. I mainly know Swift Current as a place to get fuel and coffee while heading towards the foothills and mountains of Alberta. I also know it as a place where scientists develop new varieties of wheat at the Swift Current Research and Development Centre. However, that latter piece of information is not mentioned in this book so I guess it's not really relevant. Suffice it to say that I now know quite a bit more about this prairie city since reading this book.

Crozier is a well-known poet and her poetic phrasings are sprinkled throughout this book. Her descriptions of the prairie light and the skies made me long to get out into the country. The cover of this book is perfect at capturing the feeling one gets when you stand on the prairie.

Despite these moments of poetic bliss Crozier also unflinchingly tells us what it was like to be poor and have an alcoholic father. Both her parents grew up on farms, quite close to each other, but they ended up living in rented houses and barely managing to make ends meet. As the saying goes, you can take the boy out of the farm but you can't take the farm out of the boy. Crozier thinks it was the disappointment of not inheriting the farm that turned him to drink. Despite their hard-scrabble existence both Lorna and her older brother turned out well. That is probably due to their mother's influence and both children retained strong relationships with her.

I think Ursula K. Le Guin who is quoted on the front cover sums up this book well:
"How rare such honesty is, and how hard-won, and radical, and beautiful."½

I've only just discovered a few of Crozier's poetry books in the past few months, so I'm not sure why I decided to read her memoir. Honestly, I think it's at least in part because of the cover, which is gorgeous.

Her memoir is not like a typical memoir. Through out the book, in little collections of 2 or 3, she includes mini chapters that aren't always memories (at least, not the historic kind you generally find in memoirs). Prose, I suppose, on grass and insects and such. It's a lovely and unexpected addition to her family's history.

Crozier is honest about her life and her family, even sharing some of the more painful things she endured. She writes as if she was telling a friend anecdotes about her childhood and her family. It makes for an easy and interesting read that feels more like a story than a autobiography.

Even if you aren't a fan of her poetry, you may find this interesting as it offers insight into the lives of people living in the prairies in the 1900's (she was born mid-century, but she talks about the trials her parents' families faced) and the lives of people who struggled with being poor.

Full of beautifully crafted and engaging poems. Crozier's ability to describe nature and use nature to describe is something I adore.

Beautifully written poems accompanied by gorgeous photos. Whether you love poetry or love bears and wolves and ocean life, this is a great book.

Lorna Crozier did a beautiful job of translating the coast into words. I felt like I was there and it has renewed my love and yearning for being near the coast. I'm looking forward to reading more of her poems (she has a long list of works already published).

I'm just not in the headspace for this collection right now.

I've taken to reading poetry this summer and Lorna Crozier is a favourite. This collection gathers reflections on aging, the natural world and life in general. A semi-finalist for the Governor General's Literary Award for Poetry, What the Soul Doesn't Want is a wonderful collection.

For me Crozier's voice is pure Canadian. As a reader raised on Atwood, Laurence, and Munro, I recognize that feminist Canadian voice on a purely instinctual level. It resonates deep within me, making me pause after a particularly keen note is struck, suck in a deep breath, and scan the poem, soaking it in again and again. As a woman hitting her middle years, I found this collection from Crozier particularly poignant. It delves into bare truths that are easy to bury in daily life. The subtle sense of loss that permeates the aging process saturates her poems and yet is juxtaposed with pieces of whimsy. The cockroach poetry is particularly intriguing.

The best poetry blends pure emotion with intellect. Crozier does this well. At times, however, her realism edges towards depression. Yet just as one is tipping into the futility of life, she pulls back and throws in a beautiful portrait from nature, putting one's human existence into perspective and evoking a smile.

Lorna Crozier is a favourite. And poetry is worth every penny you spend on it. Don't miss this lovely collection.

3.5 stars

Lorna Crozier is a poet. She was born in 1948 and grew up in Swift Current, Saskatchewan. This tells of her life, much of it during her childhood. Her family didn’t have a lot of money and her father was an alcoholic.

I liked this. I wasn’t sure at first, as there are short chapters that just seem descriptive, which I guess shows more of her poetic side, but those sections didn’t interest me nearly as much as her life stories. I grew up in Southern Sask, and my dad grew up in Swift Current, so it’s always fun to read about places you know. It’s a short book, and she did skip over a lot of stuff. Overall, though, I did enjoy the parts about her life and the familiar places.½

very honest, terrible stories.½

very short vignettes which join to form a great memoir

I might have given this book 5 stars, but for the fact that one of two of the essays didn't hold up against the undeniably terrific ones. Almost all are wrenching and brutally candid. David Adams Richards piece, simply entitled "Drinking" is worth the price of the book. Patrick Lane's "Counting the Bones", Molly Jong-Fast's "Junkie Grows Up" and Lois Simmie's "An Open Letter to Laura" might be required reading for anyone thinking about recovery. Stephen Reid's "Junkie", the last essay in the book is scalding and terrible, and all the more so since as recently as 2011 Reid was back in the throes of his addiction, and back in the slammer. One essay sounds as though it's steeped in the author's denial, and although it's ironically tragic, it also struck an off-key note for me. I won't mention which essay I think that is, but will allow readers to make their own conclusions.

All in all, a solid anthology for those of us who take comfort in knowing we are not alone in our struggles with addiction. The essays which indicate the authors are now in healthy recovery offer hope, while the others act as cautionary tales.

This book, the memoirs of poet Lorna Crozier, was nominated for the Ontario Library Association's Evergreen award. Crozier writes beautifully, and I thought that the description of her relationship with her mother was very moving. Crozier provides an interesting and poignant view on what it was like growing up in the Prairies.

Excellent collection of poetry reflecting the diversity of Canadian post-modern experience. Poets are generally all younger and there are slightly more poets from Western Canada. Some of the poems are emotionally raw and mature in content.½

As you read this slim volume you can't help but feel it is coming straight from the heart. And if you have prairie roots (Crozier grew up in Swift Current), it will further enhance the appeal (it reminded me of Dorothy Livesy's memoir A Winnipeg Childhood.) Read it and be inspired to pick up a volume of Lorna Crozier's poetry.