May Reading Wrap-Up

Loads of poems and three good tales

Photo by Florencia Viadana on Unsplash

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The Read Good Challenge for "May-ja-vu" was to revisit a previously-read book or author. I achieved this with my earlier re-read of Madame Bovary (Flaubert,) and this month, with, The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald). When considering previously read authors, I also need to mention: a collection of Mark Doty poetry (because I had so loved his braided memoir, What Is the Grass,) Our Man in Havana by Graham Greene (because his voice in End of the Affair,) New York Sketches, essays by E B White, The Complete Short Stories of D H Lawrence, Twelfth Night (because after reading Shakespeare sonnets, I am committed to reading his plays,)—and The Art of Drowning by Billy Collins. Ever since 2025 began, I’ve been May-ja-vuing all over the place! What or who have you revisited during the first half of 2025?

In May, I leaned into poetry. It is difficult to critique poetry for there are so many ways to write and appreciate poems. But here goes! All three poets were new to me.

Goldenrod, by Maggie Smith. The poems were "everyday" in the best way possible. They don't speak with the universality that some poets achieve, but they do express the human condition astutely--especially a woman's human condition. They express an ache, maybe a full-blown hurt, for the world the personae inhabits. Yet, Smith's observations show us that the personae respects, and maybe even loves the world described, despite its sobering realities. I enjoyed reading these heartfelt poems. They have substance and "sound" like poems. But I didn't find them lyrically beautiful, nor did they have strong, notable voltas. Emotional impact (which is hardly a gut punch) comes from reading the entire collection. None individually caused a gasp, but several brought personal experiences to mind. Accessible and contemporary poems that are readable, smart, pleasant. A well-curated collection. Worth reading. 3 stars.

Garden Time by W S Merwin. William Stanley Merwin, a Maui-based environmentalist, wrote more than 50 books of poetry and prose. He won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1971 and again in 2009. Also the National Book Award for Poetry in 2005. He was the 17^th US Poet Laureate in 2010. Garden Time was published in 2016, when Merwin was aged and losing his sight.

These are gentle poems of pastoral scenes that allude to deeper thoughts on aging, decrepitude, and loss of sight. Most are short; many, just 12-lines long. And none offer any punctuation. I thought at first this would disrupt my reading, but it did not. In fact, I liked the way a word or two would sum up one idea while starting the next.

The emotions he stirred were subtle, personal, ephemeral, and quiet. I felt the places he described rather than saw them. Here is an excerpt from "December Morning" of how he evokes a personal, internal reaction to his poem.

"... and I forget that
I am almost blind and I see the piles
of books I was going to read next
there they wait like statues of sitting dogs
faithful to someone they used to know"

These poems should be read again and again, especially as we age. They are puzzles of beautiful words that will form different ideas in the mind of a reader at different moments in their life. It’s easy to think of them as unimportant. I was dubious until I reached about halfway through the book. I then felt his sadness, his yearning, his ardor for the natural world and for his wife disappearing from his view. He tucks those emotions in behind the lovely descriptions of a lake and a canoe, a cowbell, a cup of green tea in the middle of the night. I'm keeping my copy. In our mad world, seeing these tranquil spots again through Merwin's fading eyes will prove very healing. 3.5 stars.

The Selected Poems of Ezra Pound. I made it through. This, alone, is something. If you heed the whim to read Pound, first learn about his life, his interests, and his politics. That is not to say that his poetry is in the least bit autobiographical. But I found that his fascinating life helped to propel me through the book, even when mired in lines that were so cryptic or so esoteric that I couldn't possibly make sense of them. I also watched a lecture on his poetry given to Yale University poetry students. The professor's insights and enthusiasm were very helpful. It’s on Youtube, if you like that sort of thing.

Pound attempted to make poetry more accessible by translating ancient verse into common English. Sadly, I found his poetry impenetrable, given his multiple references to ancient Greek and Chinese poets, thinkers from before 10 B.C., and bits of Dante, Homer and Blake. Even in the few instances when I recognized a name, I got so little from it that I felt like Pound was almost showing off—name dropping, poet-style. When I ran across a challenging word, I was too disinterested to search the dictionary. (This is not my typical M.O.) Adding to the difficulty, the reader encounters lines written in Chinese or Greek letters -- well beyond this anglophone’s comprehension.

About half of this volume are excerpts from the Cantos, his masterwork. Cantos is a reference to music, and it's been said that musicality and lyricism were vitally important to Pound. I’ve read many other poets who offer sweeter music. He does offer lucid moments, when a scene takes shape or lyricism trills. The Selected Poems of Ezra Pound did not work for me. If these poems had voltas, I did not feel them. Other than confusion or frustration, they did not foment an emotional response. This thin volume, spanning his life's work, is a good book for dipping into Pound. While I’m not eager to read more, I gave it 2 stars because I trust the scholars when they say he is a great modernist poet. Many wise writers greatly admired Pound: Eliot, Williams, Yeats, Stevens, cummings, Stein.

My other reading challenge, Savidge Prompts, asked that I read my favorite author’s favorite author. I tried to find whom Colette admired, but coming up short, I chose Charles Dickens instead. His best friend was Wilkie Collins—whom I had never read. I tackled The Moonstone, hailed as the first full-length detective novel written in English (1868.) The titular moonstone is a giant yellow diamond that was stolen from an Indian shrine and bestowed upon the naïve Miss Verinder at her 18^th birthday celebration. Officially, she inherits it from an uncle. But before morning, the stone disappears from the Verinder home. An amusing and renowned detective, Sergeant Cuff is brought in. The plot twists and turns and does somersaults. There is romance and tragedy and all manner of surprises. I’m rather awed by its plotting. I’ve read that Collins outlined every detail, which makes the endeavor even more impressive.

I audiobooked it, and simultaneously read a copy available on-line via The Gutenberg Project. I reasoned that if I became lost in the characters or cluing, I could catch up more easily by seeing the words on the page. It worked well.

My cast highlights: Gabriel Betteredge, head servant to the Verinder's and emcee (of sorts) only tells us the very beginning of the story and infuses his account with the wisdom he draws from his many readings of Robinson Crusoe. He is a deeply human character; kind, hardworking, loyal, and aware of his shortcomings. Roseanna Spearman, a young housemaid, is a reformed thief and former prisoner, hired by the kind Lady Verinder as an act of charity. Although a trusted servant, when the diamond goes missing, she becomes the obvious suspect. The pious, Drusilla Clack with the haughtiness of E M Forster’s Charlotte Bartlett, is one of several witnesses who narrate what they can about the missing moonstone. She is meant to be unlikable and is. Sargeant Cuff, who seems to be a darling, verged on being a tad too “Wallace & Grommit.”

The pacing is quite speedy given its Victorian length. Do read it. It’s fun, engaging, and never boring. (Still, I prefer his best friend's novels.) 4.25 stars.

Tartufo by Kira Jane Buxton. A light-hearted fiction about a hilltown in Tuscany that is falling into ruin, abandoned by its young people, and left to its oddballs, elderly, goats and cats. I gave this novel high marks, although I am critical of Buxton’s stylistic choices. On the one hand, the story is beautifully paced, delightful to read, amusing, dramatic, vivid. On the other hand, it verges on purple-prose (overly flowery.) Frequently, I wanted to scream, "STOP with the adjectives!" Several of her most-endearing characters are one-dimensional and cartoonish. The book is of a piece with European travel fantasy books like Under the Tuscan Sun and A Year in Provence, although this one is definitely fiction. Like those others, Tartufo can't resist over-describing every speck of food any character eats, smells or touches. Still, even with these harsh criticisms, Tartufo does achieve what Buxton set out to do. Moreover, I greatly enjoyed the reading experience, despite the thick jungle of description.

I listened to Tartufo on audio book, read by Caroline Hewitt. Hewitt does a pretty good job. She, too, overdoes it, though, with her Italian accents making it a little hard to follow the story. I would have better retained the relationships between the characters had I read it in print. Still, the audiobook was a fine way to consume this delicious story. This is not an important book. I didn't come away with any revelatory insights into the Tuscan way of life or how to be a better human. Buxton did a boatload of research into truffles, hunting, and other sideline details. It’s a good yarn. The townspeople are amusing, although not subtle. I think this village has more stories to tell. Don’t be surprised to see Buxton's franchise grow. I'll read her next installment. Therefore, good work. 4.5 stars.

Lastly, in May, I read The Secret Garden, published in 1911 by Frances Hodgson Burnett (another Victorian author!) It’s a children’s classic that I somehow missed. If you haven’t picked up this book because you thought it would be too cute, childish, or saccharin, give it a try. I had wanted to read it for well over a decade and for all of those reasons, I never prioritized it. It’s much more substantial than I expected. While I think kids would enjoy it, hard-bitten adults will, too. The protagonist is Mary Lennox, born in British East India to wealthy, neglectful parents. When her parents and the last of their servants die from cholera, Mary is left abandoned in their large home. She is rescued and sent to Yorkshire to live with a widower uncle who is independently wealthy. It is on his estate that she discovers the "Secret Garden" and the secrets of a garden. The prose is lovely, the voice ("Yorkshure") is strong. The imperfect characters have personality, humor, and they evolve. As you might expect, the book delivers several important messages. I gave it 5-stars. Absolutely beautiful.

My May Stats:

• Six books total: all completed.

• Four audiobooks and two paperbacks.

• 0 library books (Hoopla or Libby included.)

• Of the two print books (both poetry collections,) one was full price, and the other was purchased used.

• 1 contemporary novel, 2 classic novels, and 3 poetry collections.

Tell me what you read in May?

Have you read any of the books on my list?

What did you think?