TRIBUTARIES

A blend of literary criticism and original work that traces an author’s dialogue with the poems that inspire him.

Luchs opens by explaining that he was first drawn to poetry by a “fascination with its music, its magic, its mystery and its power to move me emotionally, intellectually and spiritually.” As the author notes, the essays collected here are “not academic treatises” but personal reflections written to encourage “increas[ed] understanding and enjoyment.” He begins with Wallace Stevens’ “Of Mere Being,” analyzing the poem and then including one of his own as a reaction. This structure—part essay, part creative echo—sets the form for the rest of the collection, forming an ongoing dialectic between reading and writing. Luchs unpacks his selections’ language, rhythms, and historical contexts before distilling his reactions into verse. The result is a dialogue between criticism and creation in which reading becomes a catalyst for writing. The author moves through a wide range of poets and eras, using the same framework to explore the meaning of each writer’s work. He discusses Philip Larkin’s “Annus Mirabilis” in the context of the 1960s cultural shifts that surrounded it and turns to D. H. Lawrence with an eye on psychological and emotional texture. Nobel laureate Wislawa Szymborska, whom Luchs calls “highly improbable,” receives both biographical attention and effective, succinct interpretation: “She’s telling us who she is here, and by implication asking us who we are.” The author broadens his scope to include poets from varied traditions and backgrounds, such as Chilean author Gabriela Mistral and Black poet Lucille Clifton, noting the importance of engaging with different perspectives. Other essays focus on Jorge Luis Borges, Federico Garcia Lorca, and Lewis Carroll (whose “Jabberwocky” Luchs traces through its many cultural impacts). The work closes by reaching back to Homer before rounding out the tour with more contemporary poets, including Charles Simic and James Tate.

Luchs writes with a tone that is both pedagogical and inviting, balancing humility with the learned wit of a scholar. The author’s enthusiasm for the poets he discusses recalls a warm teacher eager to share an infectious passion for the subject. He offers concise, confident introductions, swiftly capturing each poet’s defining traits; of Robinson Jeffers, Luchs identifies the Greeks and the King James Bible as the poet’s “lifelong companions.” The author often leans into a slightly stuffy, bookish sense of humor, but his timing keeps it playful—he writes of David Ignatow, “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you talk to your daughter about death, yours and hers and everyone’s.” A refreshing self-awareness grounds the work, as Luchs mentions his own struggles with fiction: “Anyway, don’t hold your breath,” he jokes, making him approachable and relatable. His criticism is similarly accessible, best suited to readers and writers seeking to deepen their appreciation of great poets; those desiring more rigorous academic analysis may find his readings somewhat surface level. Still, anyone who has tried to emulate the greats will find something deeply resonant in the author’s own creations: “The sweet amnesia of snow and cold is no less merciful / than that of the poem never written, never published, / or perhaps, published and quickly lost among so many others.”

A generous, witty guide for readers and writers alike that opens personal pathways to great poets.