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After All: Last Poems by William Matthews — book cover

After All: Last Poems

by William Matthews
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Overview

William Matthews had completed AFTER ALL shortly before his death, just after his fifty-fifth birthday, in November 1997. In many poems in this collection, Matthews seems to be looking his last on all things appealing: music, food and wine, and love among them. He also evokes the death of his favorite jazz musician, Charles Mingus, speaks of cats, dogs, history—and especially, with his characteristic relaxed wit, of language and its quiddities.

Synopsis

...Listen,
my wary one, it's far too late
to unlove each other. Instead let's cook
something elaborate and not invite anyone to share it but eat it
all up very slowly.
--from "Misgivings"

This is the touchingly entitled collection of poems William Matthews completed shortly before dying, just after his 55th birthday in November 1997. Is death ever entirely unexpected? Not, perhaps, by a collector of experience, a gourmand of language, who can refer to 'death flickering in you like a pilot light.' In After All Matthews seems to be looking his last on all things lovely: music, food, wine, and love. In the stunning central poem, 'Dire Cure,' which forms a kind of spine to the book, he describes the remarkable implications of the 'heroic measures' that saved the life and restored the health of his wife from 'a children's cancer (doesn't that possessive break your heart?).' He evokes the death of his favorite jazz musician, Charles Mingus. He speaks of cats, dogs, pigs, sheep, of the past, of history, of joys proposed, but especially, with his characteristic relaxed wit, of language and its quiddities: 'My love says I think too damn much and maybe she's right.' After All is the last word from one of the most pensive and delicious of all our poets.

American Book Review - Rick Pernod

William Matthews poem After All is a wonderful testament to the burgeoning of everything alive, including the imagination, and ultimately, it is about the artistic process and poetry itself. The reader is shown that in a William Matthews poem, emotional force is not going to come at the expense of intelligence or sophistication, where it is a poem about romantic love or not. His complexity is what makes his poetry interesting and gives it the integrity that richly rewards the diligent reader.

About the Author, William Matthews

William Matthews won the National Book Critics Circle Award in 1995 and the Ruth Lilly Award of the Modern Poetry Association in 1997. Born in Cincinnati in 1942, he was educated at Yale University and the University of North Carolina. At the time of his death in 1997, he was a professor of English and director of the writing program at the City University of New York.

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Editorials

From the Publisher

"An extraordinarily important American poet."—Gerald Stern

"A lovely finale." Library Journal

Rick Pernod

William Matthews poem After All is a wonderful testament to the burgeoning of everything alive, including the imagination, and ultimately, it is about the artistic process and poetry itself. The reader is shown that in a William Matthews poem, emotional force is not going to come at the expense of intelligence or sophistication, where it is a poem about romantic love or not. His complexity is what makes his poetry interesting and gives it the integrity that richly rewards the diligent reader.
American Book Review

Publishers Weekly

What sets Matthews apart from other pleasant, autobiographically inclined poets is that he doesn't emote by rote, but feels sharply and smartly, transforming his sometimes trite scenarios into plain, careful insights. In this last volume, prepared before his death last year at the age of 55, Matthews gathers the stuff of life -- car alarms and collegiate days, hospital misery and divorce. His laconic humor is ever at the ready: At a job interview, the poet dodges questions by speaking 'fluent Fog.' In Scotland, he wonders about the 'astonishing sheep with canoe-shaped ears,' and is pleased to learn from a shepherd that they are particularly stupid. Elsewhere, he recalls bringing 'back a tall bubbin for the nice lady,' who turns out to be 'Martha Mitchell (wife of John/ Mitchell, soon to be Nixon's attorney general).' He considers such meetings proof that we are 'by being born, a hostage/ to history' and deadpans, 'Yes, there's cure for youth, but it's fatal.' The very best lines combine Matthews's affability with trenchant turns on himself or his beloveds: 'I like divorce. I love to compose/ letters of resignation' or 'I saw her fierce privacy,/ like a gnarled luxuriant tree all hung/ with disappointments.' The all too human singularity of these poems only underlines Matthews irreplacability.

Library Journal

Since Matthews was one of the few contemporary poets who really knew how to make the vernacular sing, it's sad to think that these are his last poems. Fittingly, some of them are autumnal, but they range widely and brightly from Prague in 1419 to a Caribbean island in 1967 to Martha Mitchell, Finn sheep, and a poetry reading at West Point. A lovely finale. (LJ 9/15/98)

Peter Still

The wisest poet of his generation. -- Georgia Review

Book Details

Published
May 1, 2000
Publisher
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Pages
64
Format
Paperback
ISBN
9780618056859

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