Czesław Miłosz (1911–2004)

When I was looking for books about Vilnius, I came across this beautiful one published by Hanser Verlag: "Die Straßen von Wilna" by Czesław Miłosz. The curious thing is that I wasn't able to find any other information about the book and its contents. It is not included in the bibliographies of Czesław Miłosz that I found, and I don't know if it is a work standing on its own (it looks like it from the publishing information included in the book) or a collection composed by Hanser (which show more somehow seems more likely to me). Moreover, there is an English version shown on LT (Beginning with my streets), but upon a closer look, this is a different book containing different texts, at least in part.
Well, I read this German language one and I liked it very much.

This book consists of three parts that are interspersed by a couple of poems. In the first part, the author gives an overview of the history of the city, and like that, of Lithuanian history. This might sound a bit dry, but it is not, because Miłosz is a masterful storyteller and thus, this slice of history is immensely readable and highly fascinating. To be honest, I think most historical facts that I remembered during our trip came from this chapter and not from the travel guide we also had with us.
The second part is a description of some of the streets of Vilnius. Miłosz, who spent parts of his childhood and later also studied there, connects the streets with his personal memories, and thus, he paints a somewhat nostalgic picture of Vilnius before World War Two. He writes about the activities he took part in as a child, the people he met, the buildings and atmosphere of the streets.
The third part includes a letter Miłosz wrote to the writer Tomas Venclova, and Venclova's reply. Venclova is an ethnic Lithuanian, unlike Miłosz, who was of Polish descent and wrote in Polish (and is considered a Polish author). These two letters cover a lot of ground and deal with Lithuanian history, with many other writers the two have known, and especially with the ciity's position between Polish and Lithuanian culture, its unique status of being a provincial town, but also a capital, its changing hands for so many times. There are many interesting - and still relevant! - thoughts in these letters, especially when the writers reflected on possibilities of the future. The letters were written in the late 1970s, and they hoped for a democratic Lithuania with Vilnius as its capital, but also feared that nationalism would remain a danger to Europe. It was almost eerie to read their predictions now, 45 years later. show less

I don't write many reviews, but this book needs one. It's odd to have an editor of an anthology put so much personal commentary into it, but I have no problem with that in and of itself. What I have a problem with is a white, male author/editor consistently denigrating female poets even as he includes them in his anthology. He qualifies every compliment with its opposite, such as when Milosz praises Linda Gregg as one of America's best poets but then follows it up with his being "biased" show more since she attended his classes, to which I'm assuming he's implying that she learned such greatness from him? Even if I'm reading too deeply into that, the way in which Milosz objectifies women in general by having a section entitled "Woman's Skin" alongside others such as "Nature," "Places," and "Travel" (tell me, which one doesn't belong?) is pretty infuriating even before one realizes that one of the first poems in said section is written by a man who is reflecting in the first-person on the difficulty of women aging or in another poem's commentary where he claims that women's bellies are "emotionally different" to men's. Moreover, Milosz claims that "in some epochs of history women took an active part in literary life..." as if we have not existed as artists and writers THROUGHOUT history. I would have given this book no stars, but many of the poems included are quality, despite their unfortunate election by an obvious misogynist. Mr. Milosz, I know you're dead, but go fuck yourself. show less

Miłosz’s meditation on how people (for most of the book, academics) forced themselves to make an agonized peace with Soviet ideology in the aftermath of WW2 resonates today for readers who’ve seen friends and colleagues start speaking in strange tongues for favor in much smaller stakes.

The text slowed to a crawl in spaces where the context was obviously more immediate at its publication, but Miłosz’s poetic voice makes other passages of horror and humility deeply affecting, ringing show more throughout time. show less

Academic-style poetry anthologies contain all the important poems ever written. Ever. They make good reference books but aren't great for general reading. Conversely, Milosz said he selected poems for this anthology that are "short, clear, readable...they undermine the widely held opinion that poetry is a misty domain eluding understanding." He skipped the "intellectual," "scholarly," and "important" labels and picked poems that speak to him personally. As a result, the reader doesn't feel show more burdened to read or obligated to uncover some hidden meaning. This book is accessible without being facile.

The section themes, like "Nature," "Epiphany," and "People Among People," along with their short descriptions, add to the reading experience without being overbearing. The selections are diverse, ranging from 11th Century Chinese poets to Alan Ginsberg and from anonymous Eskimos to Walt Whitman. You'll re-read classics in a new light and stumble across some new favorites. Whether you're a poetry scholar or were scarred by high school English class, the 300 poems are a joy to read. Luminous Things is a great book to keep on your nightstand or desk, where you can flip through it and read a poem at random. show less