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Derek Sheffield Not For Luck (Paperback) Wheelbarrow Books (UK IMPORT)
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Item specifics
- Condition
- Book Title
- Not for Luck
- Publication Name
- Not For Luck
- Title
- Not For Luck
- Format
- Trade Paperback
- EAN
- 9781611863895
- ISBN
- 9781611863895
- Publisher
- Wheelbarrow Books
- Genre
- Poetry
- Release Date
- 30/01/2021
- Release Year
- 2021
- Language
- English
- Country/Region of Manufacture
- US
- Item Height
- 0.5in
- Item Length
- 9in
- Item Weight
- 5 oz
- Series
- Wheelbarrow Books
- Publication Year
- 2021
- Topic
- American / General
- Item Width
- 6in
- Number of Pages
- 94 Pages
About this product
Product Information
In Not For Luck , Derek Sheffield ushers us into the beauty and grace that comes from giving attention to the interconnections that make up our lives. In particular, these poems explore a father's relationship with his daughters. We are invited to listen to the languages of other beings. Through encounters with a herd of deer, a circle of salmon in a mountain creek, two bears on a stretch of coast, a river otter, and a shiny-eyed wood rat, these poems offer moments of wonder that celebrate our place as one species among many on our only earth.
Product Identifiers
Publisher
Wheelbarrow Books
ISBN-10
1611863899
ISBN-13
9781611863895
eBay Product ID (ePID)
6050108892
Product Key Features
Book Title
Not for Luck
Format
Trade Paperback
Language
English
Topic
American / General
Publication Year
2021
Genre
Poetry
Number of Pages
94 Pages
Dimensions
Item Length
9in
Item Height
0.5in
Item Width
6in
Item Weight
5 oz
Additional Product Features
Lc Classification Number
Ps3619.H45147
Reviews
Derek Sheffield's poems are familial in a bracingly unfamiliar way. Their moments of tenderness are fragile and earned. Their melancholy is serene. Their passages of greatest power tend to portray beauty at the moment we realize we cannot keep hold of it without destroying it, and so release it like a grown daughter or wild trout. The moments of light dazzle. The moments of darkness haunt, yet remain ever alert to the eerie, breakable beauties of this Earth and its human and other families. Not for Luck is a skilled, true, deeply lived collection., Not for Luck is a quintessential collection of poems that examines the narrative intersections of nature and nurture. With pitch perfect descriptions, Derek Sheffield sharpens our senses to the world around us, a world in which the natural order of things invariably involves loss and rejuvenation. Sheffield's natural world, a place of learning that never stops, is a world of hope, a place of resilience where "what we know / of the tribe whose / steps have fallen / before ours," makes clear our way forward., Derek Sheffield, one of the Northwest's most important ecologically centered writers, crafts poetry that often intermingles the human and non-human worlds. In his works wilderness enriches us, makes us more human, and reminds us of our own primordial origins. In "Emergency," modernity gives right of way to deer that cross a road, and all who witness these creatures are not unlike the deer: transfixed, slightly nervous. The short, delicate lines of the poem, a piece devoid of ornament, suggest a shortness of breath, a simultaneous quickening and decelerating of experience. The ending of the poem potently reminds that there are two species being witnessed and that both, full of pulsing blood, sentient, and vulnerable, belong., "In Not for Luck , Derek Sheffield achieves something of inestimable value: a trustworthy, convincing voice." --MARK DOTY , winner of the 2008 National Book Award and author of What Is the Grass, "Not for Luck is a quintessential collection of poems that examines the narrative intersections of nature and nurture. With pitch perfect descriptions, Derek Sheffield sharpens our senses to the world around us, a world in which the natural order of things invariably involves loss and rejuvenation. Sheffield's natural world, a place of learning that never stops, is a world of hope, a place of resilience where "what we know / of the tribe whose / steps have fallen / before ours," makes clear our way forward." --COLLEEN J. MCELROY, author of Blood Memory and Here I Throw Down My Heart, Derek Sheffield often treks near a swift river, among trees and weed-slick rocks, eddies of swirling brooks, under a big sky, in a territory called Wenatchee. He's willingly among the elements, but his view is often inward, particularly--and movingly--when he writes about his daughters. In "Her Present" he and one of his daughters ready themselves before they leap as one from the bank into the icy river. It's a countdown for them, a "three, two . . ." then the gleeful exhilaration of smacking glacial water. It is what I feel in these poems--exhilaration at finding this true voice in our Western landscape., "Here is a true voice in our Western landscape." --GARY SOTO , author of New and Selected Poems , finalist for the National Book Award, In Not for Luck , Derek Sheffield achieves something of inestimable value: a trustworthy, convincing voice. A voice, of course, is something we have, but getting it onto the page is another matter entirely. We don't speak in the compressed mode of lyric poetry, even of a colloquial kind, and yet there's something deeply affecting about a poetic voice that sounds effortless, and captures something essential about a speaker. It allows us, over the course of a book of poems, to feel that we've met someone in particular. Not for Luck introduces us to a father, a friend, a son, a man deeply embedded in family and community, which is also to say he is a citizen of time, and attentive to passages, growth, and change. He's a deeply engaged observer of and participant in the natural world. One of his most beautiful poems, "The Seconds," is a superbly observed portrait of a wood rat discovered after it's wintered in a shed, a big, squirrel-like bulk on my scrap wood, the black, unblinking shine of a left eye tilted toward mine. No glimmer of light in that orb, no twitch of scurry, only the deepest calm as if the ages of the earth were taking my measure. I felt like a pane of glass . . . What a masterful passage that is! The diction shifts, as the speaker looks into that steady eye, becoming richly lyrical and more elevated-- glimmer , orb , no twitch of scurry . And that lets the plainspoken, casual, and unexpected image that follows, I felt like a pane of glass . . . arrive with great rightness and force. To be seen by the world, the old, implacable, wordless world, is a bracing, unsettling moment of grace., Derek Sheffield's book, Not for Luck , revels in the names of things, of birds and trees and water and weeds, and the book wears its learning lightly. But it's not merely an accounting of the nouns of the world: Sheffield gives accurate names to specific incandescent states of being, those that are hardest to capture, including and especially love. These poems are suffused with the love of a father for his daughters, of a husband for his wife, and the love of an ardent observer, a joyful participant in the closely observed physical world. "Let's not forget those dusky gnats," he reminds us, or the dog that will "perk her ears / toward something always coming, that never quite arrives." Sheffield is a master of these liminal states, and in rendering them, achieves a kind of off-hand-sounding lyricism that is anything but accidental, as in this fly-fishing poem: "It was when a yellow warbler tumbled leaf-like / from a streamside willow to nearly snap / my dropper before landing with a tap / on my rod tip, jittery droplet / of an eye flicking toward mine." Not For Luck is a kind of gift back to the world, for all its terrors and delights. In these lines Sheffield catalogs the everyday with an eye toward the miraculous, and with a honed attention to the poetry, to the sound and the sense of the world around us., In the poems that comprise Not for Luck, Derek Sheffield has created a collection of love letters to the earth, its varied landscapes, atmospheres, weathers and living things. But what he has also compiled is a record of his experiences in those landscapes, and expressions of gratitude to those with whom he has shared those experiences. Finally, he has also made a list--like those that travelers make before packing for a lengthy trip--in order to remember items they cannot do without: in Sheffield's case, communication, the mutual trust without which life is a desert, and those people--and beings not necessarily human--whose presence in our lives gives everything else its value. Poem after poem reflects on the interconnectedness threatened today by our new and increasing dependence on technology to keep us company, and the resulting solitude and decrease in empathy that cheapens human life. Some of these conversational, direct, deceptively simple poems--especially those that record the childhood of the poet's two daughters--"Daughter and Father in Winter," "Bedtime Story" and "Her Calling,"--sing their gratitude for shared joy remembered. And others--"Her Yarn," "It Wasn't the Laundry"-- reveal how even strangers may touch lives across miles and generations. And some illustrate, through unforgettable imagery, what our species may come to accept as normal after the loss of those essentials Sheffield honors in his work. Read "The Wren and the Jet..." and those poems named above; better still, read the whole book. It will make you a wiser packer for your--no, our--trip into the future., In this richly satisfying collection, Derek Sheffield displays an apparently effortless ability to rise from the most physically grounded data drawn from the natural world into the rapt region of lyrical daydream. Here is a poet working at the top of his talent, creating an often radiant display of crystalline moments drawn or filtered out of the ordinary passages of life--as father, husband, son, teacher, environmentalist, and most of all (to bring all these together) poet., In this richly satisfying collection, Derek Sheffield's displays an apparently effortless ability to rise from the most physically grounded data drawn from the natural world into the rapt region of lyrical daydream: Have the thinnest veil of dusk, fog, or drizzle, call stillness near, her sister, silence, here. He can ascend seamlessly, so, from the world that surrounds his ever vigilant eyes and ears, a world of any explored landscape or just "dusky gnats" and "that whitefaced dog" to where we may "tilt our faces / toward a crater's living steam." In short poems or longer stretches, I love how Sheffield's language inserts itself subtly but decisively into the world of specific facts, animating it all with a poetic language that is both concrete and inventive, offering, for example, a simple stream that "purls and moils / wrinkles into flats." What this poet offers in generous measure are poems of the sympathetic imagination, an imagination prompted equally by the natural world or the affecting, sometimes fraught world of family and fatherhood, especially in some lovely poems of his daughter: "She opens her eyes and sees / the frost in my beard. Her laughter ignites another fire." In brief, Not for Luck, displays a poet working at the top of his talent, creating an often radiant display of crystalline moments drawn or filtered out of the ordinary passages of life--as father, husband, son, teacher, environmentalist, and most of all (to bring all these together) poet., "In this richly satisfying collection, Derek Sheffield displays an apparently effortless ability to rise from the most physically grounded data drawn from the natural world into the rapt region of lyrical daydream. Here is a poet working at the top of his talent, creating an often radiant display of crystalline moments drawn or filtered out of the ordinary passages of life--as father, husband, son, teacher, environmentalist, and most of all (to bring all these together) poet." --EAMON GRENNAN , winner of the Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize and author of There Now, We have less need for luck when we nurture all our relations, and this is a book that honors myriad forms of kinship. In poems to Laika the Russian space dog, to a friend at wood-cutting, to a chicken named C-3PO, to a nanny in pain, these poems "start saying exactly what needs saying." In oblique blessings to daughters, to an unknown half-brother, to a poet lost and found, to a crippled ancestor, Sheffield deals homage in all directions clean as a mountain stream. How to heal connections with such lyric "winks of calm"? When a warbler lands on the tip of your fishing rod, you know., "Derek Sheffield's poems are familial in a bracingly unfamiliar way. Their moments of tenderness are fragile and earned. Their melancholy is serene. Their passages of greatest power tend to portray beauty at the moment we realize we cannot keep hold of it without destroying it, and so release it like a grown daughter or wild trout. The moments of light dazzle. The moments of darkness haunt, yet remain ever alert to the eerie, breakable beauties of this Earth and its human and other families. Not for Luck is a skilled, true, deeply lived collection." --DAVID JAMES DUNCAN, author of The Brothers K and The River Why, "I felt like a pane of glass," says Derek Sheffield in Not for Luck , his immersive poetry collection. Exquisitely observed, crystalline in its imagery, this book is indeed an act of vision, bringing us the world up close: "cottonwood shade mixed with leaf murmur," "the lightbulb face" of bull kelp, the "bright, untied, ready-for-anything voices" of his young daughters. Keenly attuned to time's passage and the inevitability of loss, these poems unspool patiently, slowing us down so that we may dwell in "the aggregate beauty of every trout and star-clotted night." Like the wood rat in "The Seconds," Sheffield is a collector, a historian "who would make hill after hill of all the years..." Lucky us. --Ellen Bass, author of Indigo and Like a Beggar, In Not for Luck , Derek Sheffield achieves something of inestimable value: a trustworthy, convincing voice. --Mark Doty, winner of the 2008 National Book Award and author of What Is the Grass, "Exquisitely observed, crystalline in its imagery, this book is an act of vision, bringing us the world up close. Keenly attuned to time's passage and the inevitability of loss, these poems unspool patiently, slowing us down so that we may dwell in "the aggregate beauty of every trout / and star-clotted night." Like the wood rat in "The Seconds," Sheffield is a collector, a historian "who would make hill after hill of all the years." Lucky us." --ELLEN BASS , author of Indigo and Like a Beggar, "Derek Sheffield writes with a marvelous dual vision, coalescing details of the natural and human worlds, illuminating moments that sparkle and shimmer within." -- ARTHUR SZE , author of Sight Lines , winner of the 2019 National Book Award, What to expect from Derek Sheffield's fine new collection? Imagine an ancient Chinese poet, wise in the ways of mountains and rivers, who is, in addition, a fellow spirit of animals, a keen observer of neighbors and strangers, a vivid miner of memories, and a father blessed with daughters. Imagine poetry that can embrace flyfishing, bedtime stories, backwoods lore, atomic bombs, indigenous history, and everyday love. Imagine, enter this field of poems, and enjoy., Here is a true voice in our Western landscape. --Gary Soto, author of New and Selected Poems , finalist for the National Book Award, Derek Sheffield writes with a marvelous dual vision, coalescing details of the natural and human worlds, illuminating moments that sparkle and shimmer within. --Arthur Sze, author of Sight Lines , winner of the 2019 National Book Award, Derek Sheffield writes with a marvelous dual vision, coalescing details of the natural and human worlds, illuminating moments that sparkle and shimmer within., "Derek Sheffield writes with a marvelous dual vision, coalescing details of the natural and human worlds, illuminating moments that sparkle and shimmer within."-- ARTHUR SZE , author of Sight Lines , winner of the 2019 National Book Award, In Not for Luck , Derek Sheffield achieves something of inestimable value: a trustworthy, convincing voice., Exquisitely observed, crystalline in its imagery, this book is an act of vision, bringing us the world up close. Keenly attuned to time's passage and the inevitability of loss, these poems unspool patiently, slowing us down so that we may dwell in "the aggregate beauty of every trout / and star-clotted night." Like the wood rat in "The Seconds," Sheffield is a collector, a historian "who would make hill after hill of all the years." Lucky us., "I felt like a pane of glass," says Derek Sheffield in Not for Luck , his immersive poetry collection. Exquisitely observed, crystalline in its imagery, this book is indeed an act of vision, bringing us the world up close: "cottonwood shade mixed with leaf murmur," "the lightbulb face" of bull kelp, the "bright, untied, ready-for-anything voices" of his young daughters. Keenly attuned to time's passage and the inevitability of loss, these poems unspool patiently, slowing us down so that we may dwell in "the aggregate beauty of every trout and star-clotted night." Like the wood rat in "The Seconds," Sheffield is a collector, a historian "who would make hill after hill of all the years..." Lucky us.
Copyright Date
2021
Target Audience
Scholarly & Professional
Dewey Decimal
813.6
Series
Wheelbarrow Bks.
Dewey Edition
23
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Product is 95% alike picture but a little more blurry. Controller play well but had a notice from psn that my joypad wasn't authentic and could by problematic🤷♂️ no trouble so far! Shipping was fast but no tracking and worst packaging ever.. like the box came banged up... send a question to seller never had a reply 😅.... Good product overall, excellent price, fast shipping, wrapped only on 4 sides out of 6, no tracking and never reply... 4★ product / 2★ seller ✌️
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