‘Her grace, acuity, and easy command of language make Elizabeth Bishop’s writing a delight to both the mind and the ear.’
Elizabeth Bishop, poet, born and reared in Maine, died this November at the age of sixty-eight. Awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1955 for a combined edition of North and South and A Cold Spring, and in 1969 the National Book Award for The Complete Poems, Elizabeth Bishop was one of the finest poets of …
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‘We meet at various points in the great swathes of the past that neither of us were alive to witness.’
Allen Bratton on a daytrip to a castle with his older boyfriend.
‘Listening to three white poets, whom I suspect are academics, talk about the state of poetry.’
Oluwaseun Olayiwola eavesdrops on an older generation.
‘I’d been dubious about his company at first.’
Sarah Moss on watching Shakespeare with her twelve-year-old son.
‘She didn’t trust us because, to her, tenants were like children.’
Kate Zambreno on negotiating with her older landlady.
‘A moment now swallowed in embarrassment, I asked a question only a young person might ask an older one.’
Lynne Tillman on trying to understand what makes a generation.
‘To be in a hair salon is to be bubble-wrapped against the world – or at least that’s the fantasy.’
Joanna Biggs on salons, intimacy and the photography of Jack Latham.
Spencer Reece on alcoholism, homosexuality, and the poetry of Elizabeth Bishop.
Granta’s poetry editor Rachael Allen talks to Maureen N. McLane about ecology, lyric authority, and balancing poetry with criticism.
‘What would follow for five years was one of my last relationships forged through letters.’
‘salmaan the second son & his mama’s seventh seal by way of underwater & underemployment’
