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blueyorkie's review
3.0
It is difficult for me to criticize poetry and even more of that of the 20th century. Where the poetry of previous centuries was girding by rules intended to create magic under constraint, modern poets free themselves from the shackles of feet, verse and rhyme, seeking musicality, the way to touch the reader or to express emotions. Therefore, poetry is such an intimate matter, knowing if it awakens images in us, not necessarily those that the author would like but those buried in us.
While understanding the general meaning of the collection (nostalgia, return to childhood, praise of nature in opposition to civilization), I did not feel carried away by the poetry of Saint-John Perse. On the contrary, I was even sometimes bothered by images of the old world of masters delighted with what nature offered them and the care provided by their servants (their labourers?).
The poems about Crusoe are the ones that carried me away with the nostalgic recovery of several of the stories' elements, taken up again after the time's passage and the loss of all the charm that the adventure had brought to them.
While understanding the general meaning of the collection (nostalgia, return to childhood, praise of nature in opposition to civilization), I did not feel carried away by the poetry of Saint-John Perse. On the contrary, I was even sometimes bothered by images of the old world of masters delighted with what nature offered them and the care provided by their servants (their labourers?).
The poems about Crusoe are the ones that carried me away with the nostalgic recovery of several of the stories' elements, taken up again after the time's passage and the loss of all the charm that the adventure had brought to them.
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