Böcker utgivna av New Directions Publishing Corporation

This anthology series draws on authors fromcountries across the world and features selections of the finest new prose and poetry.

Ranging from the humorous and scathing to the evocative and strange, this 9th century collection of list poems by the late Tang dynasty poet Li Shangyin documents one poet's scrutiny of his riotous times. Li gives a glimpse into the mundane experiences of the waning years of Chinese poetry's golden age, while providing an uncanny reflection of the minutiae of our own contemporary lives, loves, and irritations.Besieged by a drunk person, no escape.Beautiful concubine, jealous wife.

Time of Grief is an anthology of poems divided into forty-nine days of mourning: "forty-nine days of mourning: reflecting a period of grieving as observed in Buddhist and Judaic traditions. Each day's reading consists of one or more poems by some of the world's most celebrated poets from diverse cultures and centuries, from classical times to today. Seventy-five writers from over twenty countries confront illness, loss, love lost, death and mortality, through moving requiems and lamentations, elegies and eulogies. Reaffirming poetry's ancient and intimate link with ritual, this collection opens up a calendrical, spiritual space for readers to experience bereavement as a means toward transformation.

Translations of substantial works by three important European poets-Erik Lindegren (Sweden), Cesare Pavese (Italy) and Roberto Sanesi (Italy)-are among the highlights of this 1969 New Directions Annual.Also, there appear works by other well known poets such as William Bronk, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Anselm Hollo (England), W. S. Merwin, Edouard Roditi, and Mark Strand.Emmett Jarrett, whose long poem, Design for the City of Man: A Vision, is an exciting discovery.The prose section includes Thomas Merton's satire on Negro segregation, Plessy vs. Ferguson: Theme and Variations, and a group of stories by Sanford Chernoff, Marvin Cohen, James B. Hall, James Purdy, Mia Raffel and Margaret Randall, which illustrate the rich diversity, both in technique and subject matter, of the short story form from the late sixties. There is also, in translation from the Flemish, the work of an important but too-little-known precursor of the modern movement, Paul van Ostaijen's Ika Loch's Brothel.Trim Bissel: THE REUNION Besmilr Brigham: SONGS FROM THE THIRTEENTH MASK William Bronk: SIX POEMS Sanford Chernoff: NOT MY ANIMAL Marvin Cohen: LOVE BY PROXY OF SOLITUDE Lawrence Ferlinghetti: THE THIRD WORLD Mitchell Goodman: EIGHT POEMS James B. Hall: TRIUMPH OF THE OMOPHAGISTS Walter Hamady: PLUM-FOOT POEMS Anselm Hollo: THE COHERENCES Emmet Jarret: DESIGN: A VISION Erik Lindegren: THE MAN WITHOUT A WAY Thomas Merton: PLESSY VS. FERGUSON: THEME AND VARIATION W. S. Mervin: TWO POEMS Paul van Ostaijen: IKA LOCH'S BROTHEL Cesare Pavese: DEATH WILL COME AND WILL HAVE YOUR EYES James Purdy: MR. EVENING Mia Raffel: SNAILSFEET Margaret Randall: THE IMPOSSIBLE FILM STRIP OR, HISTORY OF MARRIAGE Edouard Roditi: MEDITATION ON BOOKS Roberto Sanesi: INFORMATION REPORT Mark Strand: THE WAY IT IS

An Empty Room is the first book by the celebrated Chinese writer Mu Xin to appear in English. A cycle of thirteen tenderly evocative stories written while Mu Xin was living in exile, this collection is reminiscent of the structural beauty of Hemingway's In Our Time and the imagistic power of Kawabata's palm-of-the-hand stories. From the ordinary (a bus accident) to the unusual (Buddhist halos) to the wise (Goethe, Lao Zi), Mu Xin's wandering "I" interweaves plots with philosophical grace and spiritual profundity. A small blue bowl becomes a symbol of vanishing childhood; a painter in a race against fading memory scribbles notes in an underground prison during the Cultural Revolution; an abandoned temple room holds a dark mystery. An Empty Room is a soul-stirring page turner, a Sebaldian reverie of passing time, loss, and humanity regained.

In the beginning of the winter thaw, Lars Lennart Westin has learned that he has cancer and will not live through spring. Told through the journals of this schoolteacher turned apiarist, The Death of a Beekeeper, is his gentle, courageous, and sometimes comic meditation on living with pain. Westin has refused to surrender the time left him to the impersonation of a hospital, preferring to take his fate upon himself, to continue solitary, reflective life in the Swedish countryside. "I took little walks and noticed that in the last months the pain had actually colored the landscape in a peculiar way. Here and there is a tree where it really hurt, here and there is a fence against whose post I struck my hand in passing." His inner landscape is also re-forming: "This constant concern with an indefinite dangerous secret in one's own body, this feeling that some dramatic change is taking place, without one's being able to have any clarity about what really is... reminds me of prepuberty. I even recognize this gentle feeling of shame again." The relentlessly intimate burning in his gut provides a point of psychic detachment, rendering his survival "a unique art form whose level of difficulty is so high that no one exists who can practice it." Yet he insists, "We begin again. We never give up."

The legacy of cultural imperialism, the consequences of gender, and the marginalization of the conquered are themes that combine and comment, one on the other, in Rosmarie Waldrop's remarkable new work, A Key into the Language of America. As "formally adventurous" (A.L. Nielson, Washington Review) as ever, German-born Waldrop has based her new collection on Rhode Island founder Roger Williams's 1643 guide (of the same name) to Narragansett Indian language and lore.

It Must Be a Misunderstanding is the acclaimed Mexican poet Coral Bracho's most personal and emotive collection to date, dedicated to her mother who died of complications from Alzheimer's. Remarkably, Bracho, author and daughter, seems to disappear into her own empathic observations as her mother comes clear to us not as a tragic figure, but as a fiery and independent personality. The chemistry between them is vivid, poignant, and unforgettable. As the translator Forrest Gander explains in his introduction, the book's force "builds as the poems cycle through their sequences"- from early to late Alzheimer's-"with non-judgmental affection and compassionate watchfulness."

Bird Lovers, Backyard continues Thalia Field's interrogation of the act of storytelling and her experimentation with literary genre. Field's illuminating essays, or stories, in poetic form, place scientists, philosophers, animals, even the military, in real and imagined events. Her open questioning brings in subjects as diverse as pigeons, chat rooms, nuclear testing, the building of the Kennedy Space Center, the development of seaside beaches, Konrad Lorenz, the American author and animal trainer Vicki Hearne, and the Swiss zoologist Heini Hediger. Throughout, she intermingles fact and fiction, probing the porous boundaries between human and animal, calling into question "what we are willing to do with words," and spinning a world where life is haunted by echoes. Story and event survive through daring language, and the elegies of history.

Many of the twenty-eight essays in Oranges & Peanuts for Sale have appeared in translation in seventeen countries; some have never been published in English before. They include introductions for books of avant-garde poets; collaborations with visual artists, and articles for publications such as The New York Review of Books, The London Review of Books, and October.One section focuses on writers and literary works: strange tales from classical and modern China; the Psalms in translation: a skeptical look at E. B. White's New York. Another section is a continuation of Weinberger's celebrated political articles collected in What Happened Here: Bush Chronicles (a finalist for the National Books Critics Circle Award), including a sequel to "What I Heard About Iraq," which the Guardian called the only antiwar "classic" of the Iraq War. A new installment of his magnificent linked "serial essay," An Elemental Thing, takes us on a journey down the Yangtze River during the Sung Dynasty.The reader will also find the unlikely convergences between Samuel Beckett and Octavio Paz, photography and anthropology, and, of course, oranges and peanuts, as well as an encomium for Obama, a manifesto on translation, a brief appearance by Shiva, and reflections on the color blue, death, exoticism, Susan Sontag, and the arts and war.

This exciting new collection, My Floating Mother, City, contains poems from Kazuko Shiraishi's most recent books published in Japan, including The Running of the Full Moon (2004) and My Floating Mother, City (2003), which received the Bansui Poetry Award and a Cultural Award from the Emperor of Japan. Also included here are three amazing long sequences including "Sendai Metro, Greece Street," translated into English for the first time.

Pluriverse: New and Selected Poems charts the life-work of the celebrated poet Ernesto Cardenal-"one of the world's major poets" (Choice) and "the preeminent poet of Central America today" (Library Journal). Follow Cardenal's poetic development across six decades, from the early exteriorismo poems and romantic epigrams of the early 1950s, to the increasingly spiritual and political verse he wrote as priest and activist (including his classic revolutionary documentary poem "Zero Hour") to the shorter victory and ecology poems, and elegies to fallen Sandinistas, and on to the cosmic-mystical-scientific dimensions of his later work. "Here they are-" editor Jonathan Cohen writes in his Introduction, "to gladden your heart and enrich your soul."

Nathaniel Tarn's newest collection of poems, Ins and Outs of the Forest Rivers, dives deep into the spiritual and physical sufferings of our global age. After a moving overture, the book unfolds in five sections: "Of the Perfected Angels," with its lucid meditation on Issenheim altarpiece by Matthias Grünewald; "Dying Trees," written out of the horrible loss of hundreds of thousands of trees throughout the American West in recent years; "War Stills," an engagement with the ongoing atrocities in Iraq; "Movement / North of the Java Sea," taking flight from Maui to Bali to Papua New Guinea; and the final section "Sarawak," snaking its way through the river and indigenous anguish of Borneo, where Tarn as poet-anthropologist surveyed the loss of forest lands and its effects on tribal peoples.

"Heroism is a secondary virtue," Albert Camus noted, "but friendship is primary." In his gem-like first novel, Forrest Gander writes of friendship, envy, and eros as a harmonic of charged overtones. Set in a rural southern landscape as vivid as its indelible characters, As a Friend tells the story of Les, a gifted man and land surveyor, whose impact on those around him (his friend Clay, his girlfriend Sarah) provokes intense self-examination and an atmosphere of dangerous eroticism. With poetic insight, Gander explores the nature of attraction, betrayal, and loyalty. What he achieves is brilliant in style and powerfully unsettling.

Souls of the Labadie Tract finds Susan Howe exploring (or unsettling) one of her favorite domains, the psychic past of America, with Jonathan Edwards and Wallace Stevens as her presiding tutelary geniuses. Three long poems interspersed with prose pieces, Souls of the Labadie Tract takes as its starting point the Labadists, a Utopian Quietest sect that moved from the Netherlands to Cecil County, Maryland, in 1684. The community dissolved in 1722. In Souls, Howe is lured by archives and libraries, with their ghosts, cranks, manuscripts and scraps of material. One thread winding through Souls is silken: from the epigraphs of Edwards ("the silkworm is a remarkable type of Christ...") and of Stevens ("the poet makes silk dresses out of worms") to the mulberry tree (food of the silkworms) and the fragment of a wedding dress that ends the book. Souls of the Labadie Tract presents Howe with her signature hybrids of poetry and prose, of evocation and refraction:     There it is there it is-you     want the great wicked city     Oh I wouldn't I wouldn't     It's not only that you're not     It's what wills and will not.

Jon Allman's new collection Lowcountry is a hymn to nature, as experience during his winter stays in the rich and verdant Southern coastal region known as the Low Country, stretching from Charleston to Savannah. These poems celebrate the flora and fauna of that area, involving its art and history, as the poet also explores meanings arising from his own past and present. Lowcountry presents a surging array at once narrative and lyric-meditations on the heraldic great blue heron, a trio of works focused on the Civil War, hymns to married love, poems about his daughter's pregnancy and the birth of her twin girls, as well as poems relating to the events of 9/11. The motifs of journey and return are everywhere in evidence.

When it was first published in America in 1968, Chuang Hua's evocative novel Crossings was completely unheralded and quickly went out of print. Years later it would be widely recognized as the first modernist novel to address the Asian-American experience, its deeply imagistic prose-marked by spatial and temporal leaps, an unconventional syntax, and unanticipated shifts in plot-as haunting as the writing of Jane Bowles. At the center of Crossings is Fourth Jane, the fourth of seven children whose recollections of an oppressive yet loving father, Dyadya, are collaged with her constant migrations between four continents. Suffering from a domestic torpor occasionally enlivened by ritualistic preparations of food for her foreign lover, Jane's displacement only heightens the remembrance of what she has fled: a breech of the familial code; a failed romance; and further in the past, the desolation of war as "bloated corpses flowed in the current of the yellow river." Spare, lyrical, Taoist in form and elusiveness, visually cinematic, tender and sensual, Chuang Hua's powerful narrative endures as one of the most moving and original works of literature in the history of American letters.

A House in Istria is a crazily comic novel about a man, his long-suffering wife, and his fixation with buying the abandoned house next door. But, in this Croatian region of Istria, the neighbors frown upon the husband as a Westerner who knows nothing about Balkan history or the area's deep blood feuds. "Forget that house," they tell him: "It's not for sale."

For the last half of the twentieth century into the new millennium, no other American poet has been as deeply engaged in the opening of the poem (its boundaries and its possibilities) as Jerome Rothenberg. As editor, translator, essayist, performer, groundbreaking anthologist, one of the founding figures of enthnopoetics, and most significantly, as poet, Rothenberg has remapped the art against the grain of a single "great tradition." Reminiscent of H.D.'s Trilogy, Triptych assembles three long serial poems into one multilayered sacred text. Like Kafka's America, Calvino's Euphemia, and Babel's Odessa, Rothenberg's Poland in Poland/1931, first published in 1974, is a "poland stuffed with poland / brought in the imagination." Fifteen years later, Poland materializes into Khurbn (a Yiddish word meaning destruction, holocaust, human disaster), a poem summoned from the author's visit to his ancestral town, Ostrow-Mazowiecka, and the confrontation with his family's annihilation--including an uncle who killed himself--during World War II. "Allowing my uncle's khurbn to speak through me..." the author writes, "the poems are the clearest message I have ever gotten about why I write poetry." And now in 2006, The Burning Babe rises out of the furnace of khurbn, "reaching through the ruins / for a place to soar"....

Chosen as a 2005 Times Literary Supplement Book of the Year, Where Europe Begins has been described by the Russian literary phenomenon Victor Pelevin as "a spectacular journey through a world of colliding languages and multiplying cities." In these stories' disparate settings-Japan, Siberia, Russia, and Germany-the reader becomes as much a foreigner as the author, or the figures that fill this book: the ghost of a burned woman, a traveler on the Trans-Siberian railroad, a mechanical doll, a tongue, a monk who leaps into his own reflection. Through the timeless art of storytelling, Yoko Tawada discloses the virtues of bewilderment, estrangement, and Hilaritas: the goddess of rejoicing.

In Spring Poems Along the Rio Grande, Jimmy Santiago Baca continues his daily pilgrimage through the meadows, riverbanks, and bosques of the Rio Grande where winter dies, spring explodes, and inextricable links between the human spirit and the natural world are revealed--"the river and I see through each other's skins / behind the eyes into the tunnels of water-bone and rushing marrow." These poems expand upon those in Baca's recent Winter Poems Along the Rio Grande -- his visions of love and loss, poverty and renewal, redemption and war are reflected in the rocks, trees and animals of his beloved New Mexico. In Spring Poems the words of the river "rise around thorny thickets / then descend again into the burbling stubble," and the poet surrenders himself to this place where his own words are woven by "a thumbnail-sized yellow spider/ with poppy seed eyes." Born in New Mexico of Chicano and Apache descent, Jimmy Santiago Baca was raised first by his grandmother, but was later sent with his brother to an orphanage. A runaway at age thirteen, it was after Baca was sentenced to five years in a Federal prison at the age of twenty-one that he began to turn his life around: there he learned to read and write and found his passion for poetry. His memoir A Place To Stand won the prestigious International Award. He is Champion of the International Poetry Slam and winner of The Before Columbus American Book Award and the Pushcart Prize.

An unconventional family idyll set on a gentleman's farm in Pennsylvania in the 1930s, Once: As It Was is a vibrant pastoral memoir that mixes unsentimentality with childhood innocence in a moving story that builds to a spine-tingling confrontation."Of all my far back memories two remain most vivid, as if they had just happened. The first is of an incident that occurred in a few minutes' time; the second, a matter of months. The first happening surely was the key to my survival of the second ." So begins, veiled in mystery, Griselda Ohannessian's delightful childhood memoir about growing up on a farm in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, beneath "the friendly blue bowl" of sky, and the dangerous, preternatural events of the summer of 1939 that changed her life forever.Once: As It Was is narrated through the lens of the author's twelve-year-old self. Her farm-hometoday a golf coursewas a world as enchanting as Narnia, but without the illusion of fantasy: the perfume of locust trees in bloom, orioles patching nests, fairy dinners in ferny woodlands, the Elephant House, orange monkeys, ringing rocks. There is her dear father Bousie ("rhymes with Howsie"), who once dressed up like a crackling crone to buy apples from his daughter's makeshift apple stand, her loving Ma, her two sisters and brother, the Owls (the Cherokee Indian farmhands who were also part of the family), and others. There are the dirt roads that split off from macadam, "muggy river bottom weather," the glow of candles and lamps, her pet lamb Yamie, the bovine troll, and the roosters in action. Ohannessian's writing-memory meanders intently like a bright creek, through her schoolhouse where Margaret Toomer, the writer Jean Toomer's daughter, was one of two black students, through the living presence of books and pen pals, many secret places, a run-in with Professor Einstein, and even a little S. E. X. Then one fateful day a band of writers arrives, led by the poets Laura Riding and Robert Graves .Photographs, letters, newspaper clippings, poems, and a few bars of Morse code provide a lively, natural counterpoint to Ohannessian's moving tale.

Devastated by the loss of his wife, Bernhard disconsolately walks thestreets of Jerusalem, considering Gandhi, analysis, the beauty of hiswife Paula's neck, his Arab neighbors, Kokoschka, the Messiah, and theinner life of his friend Gustav the plumber. As his hero tries to cometo terms with his grief and the disasters of WWII, Hoffmann shows theslow remaking of an inner world.

Set in today's Haifa and presented in 237 dream-like small chapters, it is a book in which shyness and stumbling tenderness emerge triumphant. Poet Peter Cole has made a beautiful translation, capturing Hoffmann's intense and unfathomably original style. A starred Kirkus Review acclaimed the novel "Beautiful, humane, priceless."

James Laughlin-poet, ladies' man, heir to a steel fortune, and the founder of New Directions-was still at work on his autobiography when he died at 83. He left behind personal files crammed with memories and memorabilia: in "M" he is taking Marianne Moore to Yankee games (outings captured here in charming snapshots) to discuss "arcane mammals," and in "N" nearly plunging off a mountain, hunting butterflies with Nabokov ("Volya was a doll in a very severe upper-crust Russian way").With an accent on humor, The Way It Wasn't is a scrapbook loaded with ephemera-letters and memories, clippings and photographs. This richly illustrated album glitters like a magpie's nest, if a magpie could have known Tennessee Williams, W.C. Williams, Merton, Miller, Stein, and Pound. In "C": "I wish that nice Jean Cocteau were still around. He took me to lunch at the Grand Véfours in the Palais-Royal and explained all about flying saucers. He understood mechanical things. He would advise me." In "P": "There was not much 'gracious living' in Pittsburgh, where at one house, the butler passed chewing gum on a silver salver after coffee." And: "The world is full of a large number of irritating people." In "H" there's Lillian Hellman: "What a raspy character. When I knocked at her door to try to borrow one of her books (hoping to butter her up) she only opened her door four inches and said words to the effect: 'Fuck off, you rapist.'" Marketing in "M": "I think it's important to get the 'troubadours' into the title. That's a 'buy-me' word." In "G": "Olga asked Allen Ginsberg if he was also buying Pound Conference T-shirts for his grandchildren. She was most lovable throughout." In "L": "Wyndham Lewis wrote 'Why don't you stop New Directions, your books are crap.'" And we find love in "L": "Cicero noted that an old love pinches like a crab." But in The Way It Wasn't James Laughlin's love of the crazy world and his crazier authors does not pinch a bit: it glows with wit and enlarges our feeling for the late great twentieth century.

I am speaking now of the Dream in which America sleeps, the New World, moaning, floundering, in three hundred years of invasions, our own history out of Europe and enslaved Africa.Robert Duncan, from GroundworkRobert Duncan has been widely venerated as one of America's most essential poets: Allen Ginsberg described his poetry as "rapturous wonderings of inspiration," Gwendolyn Brooks called it "a subtle spice," and Susan Howe pointed to Duncan as "my precursor father," Lawrence Ferlinghetti said he "had the finest ear this side of Dante," and Robert Creeley called him "the magister, the singular Master of the Dance."Now Duncan's magnum opus, Groundwork, is available in one groundbreaking edition. The first volume, Groundwork I: Before the War, was published in 1984, after a fifteen-year publishing silence, and received immediate acclaim: it was nominated for a National Book Critics Circle Award and won the first National Poetry Award for Duncan's "lifetime devotion to the art of poetry and his grand achievement...." The second volume, Groundwork II: In the Dark, was published in February 1988, the month of Duncan's death. The internationally renowned poet Michael Palmer has written a marvelous introduction for this new edition, where "the singlemindedness of [Duncan's] life's work shows itself in the confident energy of every line" (Voice Literary Supplement).