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"We have Art in order that we may not perish from Truth" —Nietzsche |
MFA program in Creative Writing at the University of Alaska Anchorage Soapstone The Arvon Foundation The Poetry School (UK) Barrentine Design This website was designed by |
Horses and the Human Soul has been selected by the Oregon State Library for "150 Books for the Sesquicentennial" (from among books by Oregon writers, 1836 – 2009) — "highly recommended for all Oregonians to read." Download full list (pdf) Robin Becker, has selected my poetry manuscript, "Lost Lands," as the winner of the inaugural Robin Becker Chapbook Prize. The book is published by Seven Kitchens Press. "Twenty Questions answered by Judith Barrington," an interview by Annette Fix at Womenonwriting.com, click here. WHAT I'M WORKING ON Mad Heart WHAT I'VE BEEN READING The Waves and Three Guineas Both of these were choices of a small book group I belong to. We read The Waves at my suggestion because, although I’m a huge Woolf reader, I’d never felt entirely comfortable with that one. As soon as I read it knowing that we would discuss it together, I lost my apprehension and sank into the language (which everyone calls “poetic”), finding the threads that build up each character through his or her life. It’s mesmerizing and brilliant, of course. I’m a bit dubious about labeling it poetry, since I believe that prose can display many of the same delights—musical, rhythmic, and structural—as poetry. Odd that we say “poetic” as a compliment, but “prosy” as a criticism… One thing that interests me is how these two books are both immaculately written, yet so far apart on the spectrum of prose genres. Woolf was a fine writer of nonfiction: her reviews, essays, memoirs all attest to that. Her prose in these genres is rational, measured—often passionate but unfailingly logical. In the lyrical Waves, the very sounds of the words seem to lead the way into the characters’ perceptions and thoughts. Three Guineas, in contrast, while still broadcasting the writer’s mastery of language, devotes its words to laying out and building Woolf’s arguments as to why women cannot help men prevent war as long as they are second-class citizens. I read this book many years ago and was inspired and enraged, just as I’m sure she intended, but I hadn’t remembered until re-reading it now, how whimsically funny she is at times. I laughed out loud quite a lot along the way. Art Objects: Essays on Ecstasy and Effrontery I’ve just finished this collection of essays by British novelist, Jeannnette Winterson. It is the most exciting nonfiction I’ve read in years—beautifully written as well as being about the nature of beautiful writing and art. The best way to give a taste of the book is simply to quote one of my hundreds of favorite passages: “Silence and noise do not seem to me to be equivalents. When I was growing up, without a bathroom, without a car, without a telephone, without central heating, without a record player, without money, silence was free and not far away. Now it is a marketable commodity and more expensive than a good seat at Covent Garden. When I was growing up, the noisiest noise I ever heard was a tambourine and a male voice choir. This may explain why I love women and dislike Verdi operas. it was certainly a factor in my recent decision to leave London. I do not mean that London has become a focus for hymn-singing testosterones and their tinkly wives. I mean that I cannot afford to live in a place that cannot afford silence.”
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