I originally picked this book up for the Akhmatova translations, but I found the interviews highly informative. Though I am not a published poet (in spite of describing myself as the most spaced out poet on the planet in a few reviews), I have been to Ann Arbor, Michigan and New Hampshire, and I was surprised with how similar some of our experiences have been. I have been to a writing workshop, so it was possible for me to follow the process by which she has shared and refined poems before attempting to have them published. I have also been to church and taken part in discussions in that context, and was not surprised that Jane Kenyon never found the courage to submit the final poem in the book, "Woman, Why Are You Weeping?" to that process. People don't usually talk about `apathy and bafflement' while "waiting/ for the bread and wine of Holy Communion" after having been to India. (pp. 205-09).

It would be awful for me to joke about the contents of this book, but I think I found a joke by Jane Kenyon in the article, "Poetry and the Mail," originally published in "The Concord Monitor," 16 August 1993. "All poets share one thing, however--a daily dependence on the mail. `It is joy, and it is pain,' as the great Russian poet Anna Akhmatova once said, though not about the mail." (p. 128). The poem itself, "Like a white stone in a deep well," (p. 16) is included in this book. Memory is mentioned in the second line, and in the final line of the poem, and must be what Anna Akhmatova was thinking about, or about "how the gods turned people/ into things, not killing their consciousness." (p. 16)

Most of the poems by Kenyon in this book show up in the Interview with Bill Moyers (1993). What I find most modern is the open discussion of depression, crept up on with a question about the melancholy of winter in the poem, "February: Thinking of Flowers." (p. 151). In a poem, "Having it Out with Melancholy," the second part starts with a list of pills that takes up three lines, and I would bet that none of them ever appeared in any book that Freud read. I like the poem "Otherwise" on pages 168-69. The last one in the Moyers interview was "Let Evening Come." (pp. 170-71). I suspect that most of the readers of this book will be serious poets. It is difficult to imagine another group who would be eager to contemplate an article like "The Physics of Long Sticks." The last paragraph of that article is devoted to the question, "Why can't people be more like dogs?" (p. 103).

Jane Kenyon's poetry reawakened my muse and my love of poetry at a time in my life when I sorely needed it. I have read everything of hers I can get my hands on, and when I found this book I was thrilled. It is like sitting down in the living room with her. I always felt so close to her, like she was my friend, and this book almost makes that impossibility possible.

Jane Kenyon is sorely missed; her volumes of published poetry are cherished members of my library. How wonderful to have now a collection of her translations and her occasional prose pieces. She was as observant and trenchant in essays about gardening or hiking as she was in her best verse; this collection is another chance to hear her voice once again. For all her fans, this volume is a must. For those who don't know her work, it might be a good introduction, and it will surely lead them to her published collections which, thankfully, remain in print. A warm tribute to a much-loved writer.

This small book of touching and accessable poetry is about the death of a daughter and coming to terms with this horrendous loss. Those of us who have suffered that pain may find a certain rare comfort in the lines. Ah yes, I know that feeling. Yes, I felt that way, too. A wonderful closeness toward the author occured. I want to thank her for giving us this gift .

Jane Kenyon's "Constance" is a wonderful, breath-taking collection of poems. In it, Kenyon captures both the inner workings of the human mind and the intricacies of daily life. For example, the poem "Potato" is not just about a rotten potato thrown out to the compost heap; it also reveals some of the speaker's characteristics.

One of my favorite poems is "Not Writing" which captures the struggle of writer's block through the imagery of a wasp. Another powerful piece is "Having it Out with Melancholy" which reveals some of the struggles of chronic depression.

The poems all use the English language skillfully and beautifully, one example from "Peonies at Dusk" is: "I draw a blossom near, and bending close / search it as a woman searches / a loved one's face." Here the connection between a loved one's face and a peony is tightly drawn, ushering the reader into the speaker's world.

Although I have not read all of Kenyon's books yet, I have read "Let Evening Come" which is also an wonderful example of Kenyon's quiet strength with words.

Lovely is an appropriate description of this book about love. It was written by one whose gifts include an exquisite sense of the interior, and the miracle it is when two separate beings come together and create one profound matter.

This is the best translation of Akhmatova -- clear taut and beautiful

On The Spot: Volcanoes employs see-through windows and interactive features like pop-ups and flaps to show the young reader the wonder and awesome power of an erupting volcano. This superbly designed and presented science book is ideal for young readers ages 6 to 8. Also very highly recommended is the companion book On The Spot: Oceans as well as the other impressive titles in the Reader's Digest "On The Spot series" for children including Pyramids, and Space.

Jane Kenyon's poems show a keen observation of everyday detail -- "the luminous particular," as her husband Donald Hall puts it -- with a muted level of emotion. A typical poem in this ample collection meanders through several fine images, then pulls them together at the end with a description of mood or a realization. Kenyon is especially fond of the smell of wet earth, the sound of rain, and images of water. In general, her images are much more successful than her similes. Some of her beautiful phrases are reminiscent of traditional Chinese poetry: "...the water...stares back at the moon from its cool terra-cotta urn"; of Sharon Olds: "Not dark enough, not the utter darkness he desired"; and of Anna Akhmatova, whom she translated from the Russian, cf. Kenyon's poem "The Appointment." In the poem "Trouble with Math..." an incident about undeserved punishment ends with, "She led me, blinking and changed, back to! the class." -- Changed in what way? The author's language is spare and delicate, but sometimes the point gets lost. The overall impression is that the author was straining toward happiness, and she made the most of the occasional window of opportunity allowed her by illness. I found the book pleasant to read, but when it was once closed, very little remained with me. This author does not have the same clarity and robustness as, say, Luise Gluck, another poet who suffered from depression. But I did find Jane Kenyon poignant and alive when she spoke directly about her experience of illness, e.g. when she says, "I'm falling upward, nothing to hold me down."

Jane Kenyon's OTHERWISE is perhaps the best collection of American poetry in the past decade. With her accessible and illuminating poems, Ms. Kenyon captures the essence of life in all its ordinariness and extraordinariness. "Let Evening Come," for example, is a nearly perfect gem -- thoughtful, concise, movingly eloquent. Throughout this collection, the poet demonstrates a remarkable clarity of vision; her diction and meter are gorgeous, her wit and insight profound yet never burdensome. Whether recalling a scene from her childhood, an hour in winter, a cancer treatment, a death in the family, or a walk with the dog, Ms. Kenyon inspires, illuminates, and entertains.

I absolutely love this book. Jane Kenyon's poetry describes some of the most simple, daily activities in a way that brings out their hidden beauty and grace. You can sense the careful observation and truthfullness of what she describes, yet as you read you can interpret the symbolism behind certain passages and the realizations there aswell. I feel so deeply connected with this book. Her poetry speaks the words we cannot say. You won't regret buying this book.

Kenyon's art is worth the time and energy to read and enjoy. Her poetry is soft, meditative, instantly available to readers, but like pleasant shallow waters, deep and evanescent. If you are in a quiet, still, meditative mood (or want to be), Kenyon's poetry is pleasant and relaxing.

Kenyon's poetry is hauntingly beautiful. The relatively short poems are so elegant you'll feel guilty for rushing through them the first time. With each read after the first, they unveil more feeling. I read Kenyon's works and grow sadder with the knowledge of her absence today, and how much we have lost without her words.

Beautiful poetry from a wonderful person whose life comes through radiantly in her poetry. I can not read her poems without thinking of her connection to her husband Donald Hall - their poems cross back and forth , even after her death. She uses her/their life but stays far from the "confessional" mode. This book, like the title poem, brings me great peace.

As a reader who has had to buy Otherwise several times to replace
those copies enthusiastically given to friends and acquaintances,
I was looking forward to reading what I hoped would be an
insightful biography. I will not try to express
my disappointment other than to say that after about a hundred
pages I threw this book into the wastebasket in disgust. Buy "A
Hundred White Daffodils" which is quoted from so often and
so extensively one suspects how much effort was put toward
any other source. Apart from the quotes, the book seems more
written by a freshman student than anyone else. Jane Kenyon
deserves a good biographer. This book is an embarrassment.

The problem with this book is simple: it is not what it claims to be. In every way, from the title to the dust-jacket materials, this work is presented as a biography--specifically, a critical biography--of Jane Kenyon. It is not. It is a straightforward piece of literary criticism and analysis, rather simple in its approach, and as such perhaps useful for students in Introduction to Poetry courses which utilize Kenyon's work. It reminds me, in fact, of nothing so much as the old Twayne's series of introductory-level criticism.

There is some biographical material here, but it is entirely contained in the book's first two chapters, and is not especially illuminating (the teenage journal entries are the only point of interest).

It speaks poorly of this publishing house that such an overt attempt has been made to disguise the contents of this book. As another reviewer on this page stated, Jane Kenyon deserves a real biographer. Those who purchase "Jane Kenyon: A Literary Life" are bound to be disappointed, as I was.

As someone who adores Jane Kenyon and her writings, I looked forward to this book for months, and wasn't disappointed. It was especially enlightening to read excerpts from her teenage journals and see the early writings of the woman she would turn into; she never lost her sense of self, humor and determinedness.
Those who know her poems will be delighted to learn of the early drafts and background to their writing. Kenyon's husband, Donald Hall, also adds pertinent commentary. This book will reward you and send you back to the poems and writings of this wonderful woman.