Meadowlands

Louise Gluck

• Publisher: Ecco
• Year: 2022
• Print ISBN:
  9780880015066
• eBook ISBN:
  9780063117594
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Classics
• Index: Literature

Winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature

In an astonishing book-length sequence, Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Louise Gluck interweaves the dissolution of a contemporary marriage with the story of The Odyssey.

Here is Penelope stubbornly weaving, elevating the act of waiting into an act of will; here, too, is a worldly Circe, a divided Odysseus, and a shrewd adolescent Telemachus. Through these classical figures, Meadowlands explores such timeless themes as the endless negotiation of family life, the cruelty that intimacy enables, and the frustrating trivia of the everyday. Gluck discovers in contemporary life the same quandary that lies at the heart of The Odyssey: the "unanswerable/affliction of the human heart: how to divide/the world's beauty into acceptable/and unacceptable loves."

• Myth Meets Modernity: The epic journey of Odysseus is recast as the quiet, devastating battlefield of a failing marriage, where the monsters are intimacy and memory.
• The Women of the Odyssey: Encounter a fiercely intelligent Penelope, a worldly Circe, and other iconic figures, their ancient stories providing a stark mirror for contemporary heartbreak.
• Divorce Poetry: A masterful poetry collection that explores the cruelty and painful negotiations of love's end with spare, unforgettable language.
• Lyrical and Biting Voice: From a Nobel laureate, this book-length poem uses both classical grace and sharp wit to capture the frustrating trivia of the everyday alongside epic themes.

Meadowlands 1

I wish we went on walks

like Steven and Kathy; then

we’d be happy. You can even see it

in the dog.

We don’t have a dog.

We have a hostile cat.

I think Sam’s

intelligent; he

resents being a pet.

Why is it always family with you?

Can’t we ever be two adults?

Look how happy Captain is, how

at peace in the world. Don’t you love

how he sits on the lawn, staring up at the birds? He thinks

because he’s white they can’t see him.

You know why they’re happy? They take

the children. And you know why they can go

on walks with children? Because

they have children.

They’re nothing like us; they don’t

travel. That’s why they have a dog.

Have you noticed how Alissa always comes back from the walks

holding something, bringing nature

into the house? Flowers in spring,

sticks in winter.

I bet they’re still taking the dog

when the children are grown up.

He’s a young dog, practically

a puppy.

If we don’t expect

Sam to follow, couldn’t we

take him along?

You could hold him.

Telemachus’ Kindness

When I was younger I felt

sorry for myself

compulsively; in practical terms,

I had no father; my mother

lived at her loom hypothesizing

her husband’s erotic life; gradually

I realized no child on that island had

a different story; my trials

were the general rule, common

to all of us, a bond

among us, therefore

with humanity: what

a life my mother had, without

compassion for my father’s

suffering, for a soul

ardent by nature, thus

ravaged by choice, nor had my father

any sense of her courage, subtly

expressed as inaction, being

himself prone to dramatizing,

to acting out: I found

I could share these perceptions

with my closest friends, as they shared

theirs with me, to test them,

to refine them: as a grown man

I can look at my parents

impartially and pity them both: I hope

always to be able to pity them.

Parable of the Beast

The cat circles the kitchen

with the dead bird,

its new possession.

Someone should discuss

ethics with the cat as it

inquires into the limp bird:

in this house

we do not experience

will in this manner.

Tell that to the animal,

its teeth already

deep in the flesh of another animal.

Midnight

Speak to me, aching heart: what

ridiculous errand are you inventing for yourself

weeping in the dark garage

with your sack of garbage: it is not your job

to take out the garbage, it is your job

to empty the dishwasher. You are showing off again,

exactly as you did in childhood—where

is your sporting side, your famous

ironic detachment? A little moonlight hits

the broken window, a little summer moonlight, tender

murmurs from the earth with its ready sweetnesses—

is this the way you communicate

with your husband, not answering

when he calls, or is this the way the heart

behaves when it grieves: it wants to be

alone with the garbage? If I were you,

I’d think ahead. After fifteen years,

his voice could be ...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Dedication
• Epigraph
• Contents
• Publisher’s Note
• Penelope’s Song
• Cana
• Quiet Evening
• Ceremony
• Parable of the King
• Moonless Night
• Departure
• Ithaca
• Telemachus’ Detachment
• Parable of the Hostages
• Rainy Morning
• Parable of the Trellis
• Telemachus’ Guilt
• Anniversary
• Meadowlands 1
• Telemachus’ Kindness
• Parable of the Beast
• Midnight
• Siren
• Meadowlands 2
• Marina
• Parable of the Dove
• Telemachus’ Dilemma
• Meadowlands 3
• The Rock
• Circe’s Power
• Telemachus’ Fantasy
• Parable of Flight
• Odysseus’ Decision
• Nostos
• The Butterfly
• Circe’s Torment
• Circe’s Grief
• Penelope’s Stubbornness
• Telemachus’ Confession
• Void
• Telemachus’ Burden
• Parable of the Swans
• Purple Bathing Suit
• Parable of Faith
• Reunion
• The Dream
• Otis
• The Wish
• Parable of the Gift
• Heart’s Desire
• About the Author
• Also by Louise Glück
• Copyright
• About the Publisher