Produktdetaljer
Biografisk notat
Louise Glűck was the author of twelve books of poems and two collections of essays. She received the 2020 Nobel Prize in Literature "for her unmistakable poetic voice that with austere beauty makes individual existence universal." Her other awards included the National Humanities Medal, the Pulitzer Prize, the National Book Award, the Bollingen Prize, the Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets, and the Gold Medal for Poetry from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She taught at Yale University and Stanford University and lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts. She died in October 2023 at the age of 80.<p>'Glück's challenge, which she elegantly achieves, is to channel her late wisdom into the simple yet surprising language and perspective of children... the themes of sisterhood, family, proximity, and the acquisition of language have long been Glück's hallmarks; here, she has transformed those themes with a shapeshifter's aplomb. <em>Marigold and Rose</em> could be read at bedtime between parents and children -or by anyone needing a masterclass in brief, compact storytelling with resonances for the very wise and the very innocent.'<br />
<strong>Oluwaseun Olayiwola,<em> The Telegraph </em></strong></p>
<p>'In lesser hands <em>Marigold and Rose</em> could feel mawkish. But Glück, at 79, hasn’t won most of the major literary prizes out there to mess this up. It's an affecting, alluring book. As soon as I'd finished I read it again.'<br />
<strong>Susie Mesure, </strong><strong><em>The Spectator</em></strong><strong><em> </em></strong></p>
<p>'Glück, in shrinking the world to the size of a pair of blankets inside cribs, manages to gently pack her narrative with feeling... This is a delicate, minor-key book. It addresses, in larval and thus primal form, many of the concerns of Glück's poetry.' <br />
<strong>Dwight Garner, </strong><strong><em>The New York Times</em></strong></p>
<p>'<em>Marigold and Rose</em> can be devoured in a single sitting, and that's probably the best way to enter its tonal world, which is strangely hypnotic, in part because the mood never swings to violent intensity, and in part because of the orderly rhythms of Glück's prose...like her poetry, it gains its force from acute observation'<br />
<strong>Fiona Sampson, </strong><strong><em>The Guardian</em></strong></p>
<p>'This wry, read-in-a-sitting delight channels the myriad possibilities of fiction with a huge sense of fun.'<br />
<strong>Justine Jordan, </strong><strong><em>The Guardian</em> Fiction Books of the Year 2022</strong></p>
"Marigold was absorbed in her book; she had gotten as far as the V." So begins Marigold and Rose, Louise Glück's astonishing chronicle of the first year in the life of twin girls. Imagine a fairy tale that is also a multigenerational saga; a piece for two hands that is also a symphony; a poem that is also, in the spirit of Kafka's The Metamorphosis, an incandescent act of autobiography.
Here are the elements you'd expect to find in a story of infant twins: Father and Mother, Grandmother and Other Grandmother, bath time and naptime—but more than that, Marigold and Rose is an investigation of the great mystery of language and of time itself, of what is and what has been and what will be. "Outside the playpen there were day and night. What did they add up to? Time was what they added up to. Rain arrived, then snow." The twins learn to climb stairs, they regard each other like criminals through the bars of their cribs, they begin to speak. "It was evening. Rose was smiling placidly in the bathtub playing with the squirting elephant, which, according to Mother, represented patience, strength, loyalty and wisdom. How does she do it, Marigold thought, knowing what we know."
Simultaneously sad and funny, and shot through with a sense of stoic wonder, this small miracle of a book, following thirteen books of poetry and two collections of essays, is unlike anything Glück has written, while at the same time it is inevitable, transcendent.