Heights of the Marvelous: A New York Anthology

Oh, these tawdry agendas. Heights..is a greatcollection of poems. Jordan Davis, et al.are producting some of the most interesting poemsin the world. These are young writers that have managed the difficult feat of absording the frenchavant garde, while still paying attention to the clarity, lack of pretention and abstract realismof the Beats. They know what they are doing.They would know painting and film etc. as well asthe literature. That isn't a fault. They couldsit down and write like Verlaine or Proust; but theychoose to write from their own experience, andcultural terms. The work is diverse and accomplishedwhile still remaining accesible. It is A rare feat, that for some inoncievable reason, is still met with boos even the expamples of Frank O'Hara and Auden.Oh when, Oh when will we let poetry find somecool breeze and fresh air again?... Or at least admitwhen it has. They are a bit overly clever and gimmicky (maybe)at times. But one thinks you mightnot exactly "get it."

... I thought this book had a lot of literary merit, and though I agree that Lee Renaldo's work, with it's over the top bold 24 pt. typography, is pretty amateurish--"flash me flash me c'mon now you're not flashing me" (I think he is one of only two obvious mistakes in this anthology, the other being Beau Sia, whose short quirky poems may be fun on open mike night but don't work on the page--"I want to be known as the guy who shot beau sia in the face"--end of poem), I DON"T agree that Maggie Estep's short story has any integrity at all--"Do I look angry? He screamed. She held the phone away from her ear..." It's pretty dull with uninventive language and not as cute as it's trying to be. Highlights of this book, and there are many, are Prageeta Sharman, "Some formula for sacred council as not to weep into the meadow grass...", Carl Hanccok Rux, "The conflation of rapture and regret (born out in those sequestered regions of the body, unterrained/outlawed by our fathers and subjected to extreme lore of hope and monotheism) transmogrifies when you touch me/an apocolypse of destroying temples and murdering eunuchs who keep the Sabbath..." and Micheal Portnoy "Here, in the lather of sebum, of the decomposed, the misconstrued, the imprecise and everything else abandoned out of weakness, I prepare the milk bath. ..."

let me just express the suicidal depression going through beau sia because his name has not been mentioned in any capacity in any of the reviews. do you know what this does to his fragile ego? he knows he can't write, but to be nonexistent? forgettable? he is crying. i hope you're happy with yourselves. real big men. real big, grown up people. shame on you. shame. and furthermore, i'm not him. i'm a friend of beau's. and the anthology is (insert positive adjectives here). plus, i am applying for the assistant manager position at a local starbucks. wish me luck!

What a cranky, mean spirited review from our fine friends at Kirkus. There must be a reason why there's no name attached to it, no? I like this anthology for the intense variety and true inventiveness of just about all the poets. While there may be one or two weak spots it is a terrific gathering of poets who will no doubt still be around shaking things up in 20 or 30 years...unlike that Kirkus reviewer who will no doubt be living in a shack in the woods mumbling bitter odes to the gnats.

As a big fan of literary anthologies I eagerely purchased this book based on its title and some of the folks between the covers...I was moved (to tears and laughter) by what I found there. New York City is definitely (still) the literary capital of the U.S...The variety in this anthology is astounding; somebody took a big chance putting so many diverse authors together and guess what? It works! Personal favorites: Edwin Torres, Todd Colby Kenneth Goldsmith, Marianne Vitale (a young poet who reminds me of Bernadette Mayer at her best), Michael Portnoy,and Lee Ranaldo. Thanks.