New and Selected Poems

The poems of Donald Justice reach into the deepest recesses of memory, time, and reflection. There is a certain elegance and eerie understatement about his work that is the hallmark of a great talent. While I think it would be unfair to compare him to Philip Larkin, who was far more of a conscious "Nay-sayer" than Justice ever was, his gentle melancholy and razor-blade lucidity pervade even his lighter work: "On The Death Of Friends In Childhood We shall not ever meet them bearded in heaven Nor sunning themselves among the bald of hell; If anywhere, in the deserted schoolyard at twilight, forming a ring, perhaps, or joining hands In games whose very names we have forgotten. Come memory, let us seek them there in the shadows" This luminous regret coupled with the appreciation of fleeting beauty is tempered by the not quite ultimate, but certainly undying, hope of a kind of redemption: "A Birthday Candle" Thirty today, I saw The trees flare briefly like The candles on a cake, As the sun went down the sky, A momentary flash, Yet there was time to wish" For all his seriousness, Justice was not afraid to play around, even sometimes employing Dadaist techniques in the subject matter of his poetry: "Ode To A Dressmaker's Dummy", one of his best pieces, was inspired by the instructions found on the back of a store-front window dummy. This is the kind of work that deserves national attention, and I have little doubt that Donald Justice's poetic legacy will with time become legendary.

Twenty or more years ago-- it may have been longer-- I heard a poet read his poetry at Emory University in Atlanta. One of his poems seared itself into my brain and heart and I have never forgotten it: "On the Death of Friends in Childhood." We shall not ever meet them bearded in heaven, Nor sunning themselves among the bald of hell; If anywhere, in the deserted schoolyard at twilight, Forming a ring, perhaps, or joining hands In games whose very names we have forgotten. Come, memory, let us seek them there in the shadows. Poetry doesn't get much better than this. Yet in this quite wonderful collection, Mr. Justice includes poem after poem that both engage the intellect and wrap themselves around our hearts. There is a beautiful poem about the death of his grandmother entitled "First Death", and a poem about growing old, "Men at Forty": Men at forty/Learn to close softly/The doors to rooms they will not be/Coming back to. "On an Anniversary" is a beautiful love poem written (I assume) to his wife of thirty years: "Time (but as with a glove)/Lightly touches you, my love." The list goes on and on. Unlike many modern poets, Mr. Justice writes in many styles besides the free verse that has had a kudzu effect on a lot of poetry-- sonnets, villanelles, sestinas, etc. I mourn Mr. Justice's recent death but take comfort in knowing that he remains very much alive through his marvelous verse.

As far as I know, this is the definitive collection of the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet. It contains selections from six previous collections as well as fifteen new poems. I found it enjoyable and recommend it to anyone interested in contemporary poetry. Justice writes about issues that many other poets do-memory, loneliness, loss, and history-but approaches such ideas with a fresh and precise language. Many critiques discuss his intense devotion to classical forms and techniques, but there is also a great deal to enjoy in Justice's occasional bending and stretching of such strictures. Definitely recommended.

Donald Justice's work is lyrical and traditional, with a broad reach that pulls you in to his vision of the world. Justice's poetry reflects the certainties of our lives and forms a basis for poetic discourse. Justice often uses mirror imagery in his poems. In fact, mirrors used to reflect the soul are a major theme in his New and Selected Poems. The mirrors here demonstrate the way our reflections show us an inner "face," not the ones we fix for the world to see. Justice employs this sense of duality to represent thedifferent "faces" of human nature. We all have a bright side that we show the world, and, beneath, a more secret self. This is the image that is often fogged, and warped when we peer closely into it.

Donald Justice expresses himself powerfully through an economy of words. His poignant ideas and feelings penetrate his highly structured poetic forms and rhyming schemes without seeming stilted or academic. In accepting the formal and rather out-of-mode forms of poetry, he could compare to painters Sargent or Whistler.