William Stafford (1) (1914–1993)

You can tell this is a collection of assorted material from a dead person, mostly because it's disjointed and unpolished. I liked the aphorisms more than the poems. The latter seemed largely unfinished or generic. Some of the aphorisms were trite or didn't strike me as profound, but mostly they struck a good balance between specificity and applicability. Here are some of the ones that I liked the most:

"Many things true when said, the world makes untrue."

"If there is a trail, you have taken a wrong turn."

"Strange, the best part of a room is a window."

"The sky is bigger than any country."

"There are many of those who have sense enough to come in out of the rain who do not have sense enough to go out in the sun."

"My kind of faith is that most mountains won't move."

"It is not the sound of the ax that cuts down the tree."

“Kids: they dance before they learn there is anything that isn't music.”

… (altro)

One of the things I have always admired about Bill Stafford is the gentle way he doesn't mince words. I found this appropriate in his reminiscences of a few episodes from his experience as CO during WWII. This book left a profound impression upon me (in conjunction with previous readings of Stafford's poetry). I am reading it during that dark night of the soul that is January 2021. How can you oppose violence and hatred effectively while yourself avoiding the psychology and emotion that is fueling them? How big can community truly be? Can even a small community that shares ultimate goals and outlooks still include those with elemental differences on the roots of those goals or the tactics best used to further them? Stafford puts human faces into these equations while delineating an environment that is in turn idyllic and horrific. For those who have read Stafford's poetry it will be no surprise that the writing is beautiful and simple. The descriptions of the mountains of Northern CA and fire fighting there are wonderful. They are of a piece with the philosophical and political quest that brought the author there.… (altro)

I think you either like poetry or you don't. As it happens, I love it. There is never a time (so far) that I can't pick up a poem and read it. It doesn't matter who wrote it or what era it came from. I don't like them all, but I am always glad I read them. And my favorite poet of all time is William Stafford. He looked around our world and saw things that the rest of us walk carelessly past every day. Astounding things. He has opened my eyes to so much. I will be forever grateful for the day I found Fall Journey and took the time to read it. I've been stocking my shelves ever since.… (altro)