Edited by the magazineâs poetry editor, Kevin Young, a celebratory selection from one hundred years of influential, entertaining, and taste-making verse in The New Yorker
Seamus Heaney, Dorothy Parker, Louise Bogan, Louise GlĂźck, Randall Jarrell, Langston Hughes, Derek Walcott, Sylvia Plath, W. S. Merwin, CzesĹaw MiĹosz, Tracy K. Smith, Mark Strand, E. E. Cummings, Sharon Olds, Franz Wright, John Ashbery, Sandra Cisneros, Amanda Gorman, Maggie Smith, Kaveh Akbar: these stellar names make up just a fraction of the wonderfulness that is present in this essential anthology.
The book is organized into sections honoring times of day (âMorning Bell,â âLunch Break,â âAfter-Work Drinks,â âNight Shiftâ), allowing poets from different eras to talk back to one another in the same space, intertwined with chronological groupings from the decades as they march by: the frothy 1920s and 1930s (âdespite the depression,â Young notes), the more serious â40s and â50s (introducing us to the early greats of our contemporary poetry, like Elizabeth Bishop, W. S. Merwin, and Adrienne Rich), the political â60s and â70s, the lyrical â80s and â90s, and then the 2000sâ with their explosion of greater diversity in the magazine, greater depth and breadth. Inevitably, we see the high points when poems spoke directly into, about, or against the crises of their timesâthe war poetry of W. H. Auden and Karl Shapiro; the remarkable outpouring of verse after 9/11 (who can forget Adam Zagajewskiâs âTry to Praise the Mutilated Worldâ?); and more recently, stunning poems in response to the cataclysmic events of COVID and the murder of George Floyd.
The magazineâs poetic influence resides not just in this historical and cultural relevance but in sheer human connection, exemplified by the passing verses that became what Young calls ârefrigerator poemsâ: the ones you tear out and affix to the fridge to read again and again over months and years. Our love for that singular Billy Collins or Ada LimĂłn poemâor lines by a new writer youâve never heard of but will hear much more from in the futureâis what has made The New Yorker a great organ for poetry, a mouthpiece for our changing culture and way of life, even a mirror of our collective soul.
A Century of Poetry in The New Yorker - New Yorker Magazine Inc & Kevin Young
Edited by the magazineâs poetry editor, Kevin Young, a celebratory selection from one hundred years of influential, entertaining, and taste-making verse in The New Yorker
Seamus Heaney, Dorothy Parker, Louise Bogan, Louise GlĂźck, Randall Jarrell, Langston Hughes, Derek Walcott, Sylvia Plath, W. S. Merwin, CzesĹaw MiĹosz, Tracy K. Smith, Mark Strand, E. E. Cummings, Sharon Olds, Franz Wright, John Ashbery, Sandra Cisneros, Amanda Gorman, Maggie Smith, Kaveh Akbar: these stellar names make up just a fraction of the wonderfulness that is present in this essential anthology.
The book is organized into sections honoring times of day (âMorning Bell,â âLunch Break,â âAfter-Work Drinks,â âNight Shiftâ), allowing poets from different eras to talk back to one another in the same space, intertwined with chronological groupings from the decades as they march by: the frothy 1920s and 1930s (âdespite the depression,â Young notes), the more serious â40s and â50s (introducing us to the early greats of our contemporary poetry, like Elizabeth Bishop, W. S. Merwin, and Adrienne Rich), the political â60s and â70s, the lyrical â80s and â90s, and then the 2000sâ with their explosion of greater diversity in the magazine, greater depth and breadth. Inevitably, we see the high points when poems spoke directly into, about, or against the crises of their timesâthe war poetry of W. H. Auden and Karl Shapiro; the remarkable outpouring of verse after 9/11 (who can forget Adam Zagajewskiâs âTry to Praise the Mutilated Worldâ?); and more recently, stunning poems in response to the cataclysmic events of COVID and the murder of George Floyd.
The magazineâs poetic influence resides not just in this historical and cultural relevance but in sheer human connection, exemplified by the passing verses that became what Young calls ârefrigerator poemsâ: the ones you tear out and affix to the fridge to read again and again over months and years. Our love for that singular Billy Collins or Ada LimĂłn poemâor lines by a new writer youâve never heard of but will hear much more from in the futureâis what has made The New Yorker a great organ for poetry, a mouthpiece for our changing culture and way of life, even a mirror of our collective soul.