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  3. A Poet's Memoir of Living Off the Grid;
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It was no attempt to escape civilization. He worked as a town librarian and later as a teacher and was attuned to the world through newspapers and radio.

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He is persistently aware that: How hard it is to balance the small with the large, to not become obsessed with one at the expense of the other, to be neither narrow or dwarfed. The Yankee pride in surviving the long winters does not apply to many, as alcoholism, suicide, and domestic violence seem as much of a problem as in the cities.

View all 4 comments. Aug 05, Kim Lohse rated it really liked it Shelves: I heard Baron read a few pages of this last summer and I was sold. It meanders quite a bit, but this is what I like about musing poets.

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This book feels like drinking wine over several nights by the fire while someone tells you stories about an earlier life. I like how the poetry is woven into the caning, chopping of wood and gossip about the neighbors. Very Thoreau and Walden and Whitman. Very New England Maine. Dec 22, Krista Stevens rated it liked it Shelves: Interesting treatise on Wormser's life living off-grid in a house in the woods in a little town way up in Maine with his wife and children.

As much as he enthused about really not minding the endless chopping of wood and tried to make going to the outhouse in the middle of a winter night sound alluring, he was honest enough that I had no interest in living that life, though I would have loved to have stopped by for a visit. What I liked most about this book is his comments on poetry - I've read t Interesting treatise on Wormser's life living off-grid in a house in the woods in a little town way up in Maine with his wife and children. What I liked most about this book is his comments on poetry - I've read two of his poetry books but the poems just didn't speak to me.

His numerous comments on poetry, however, did.

UPNE - The Road Washes Out in Spring: Baron Wormser

Comparing poetry to kerosene lamps he used to light his house at night "A poem, as it embodies emotion that is both modulated and fervent, possesses human heat and light. It speaks to an ache deep within us" I told my students that they would have to make their peace with unhappiness. That was part of being an adult- not renouncing happiness but making one's peace with unhappiness" On writing poetry - "I wanted to butt lines up against one another and see how they fit.

I wanted to see how the shape determined the line and vice-versa, and how rhythm and sound created what seemed like infinite texture and density within a stanza. I wanted the feel the weight of such a slight thing, for I knew it had a weight and that the weight varied from one stanza to another. I wanted to order the sounds that the syllables and accents made into patterns that pleased me.


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I wanted the mixed precision of such an endeavor - exact and inexact, steadfast and dreamlike, all at the same time. I wanted to practice balance and imbalance, trace symmetry and asymmetry, toy with words and honor them. Yeah - what he said. On forgotten, massive dead elms "They were sculptures of loss.

The Road Washes Out in Spring

The waiting was part of their lives and they didn't mind it. Libraries were about patience, possibility, and persistence" " Feb 08, Athena rated it it was amazing. In the 60s, poet Baron Wormser and his wife bought 48 acres in the Maine woods where they lived for over 23 years without electricity or running water.

They raised two children, held jobs in the nearby small town, and participated in the civic and cultural life. This meditation on that time reflects a life lived intentionally and reflectively--a life lived deliberately as Thoreau would have it. It's not just a reflection on living off the grid, though: Wormser also reflects on his development as a poet. This memoir is not some misty-eyed new age tale of finding our roots, but rather a forthright look at the choices he and his wife made and what those choices meant, physically, spiritually, and intellectually.

This is a thought-provoking and inspiring read that I took slowly.

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Even an outhouse with a sizable overhang to keep off the weather and a toilet paper holder that consisted of a nail on the back wall that was high up enough to deter mice from nesting in the roll was still an outhouse. Even an outhouse that displayed a laminated invitation to a Paris Review cocktail party and that had a bucket of lime in it to throw on what was gathering below to kill off any offensive odors was still an outhouse.


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  • The Road Washes Out in Spring: A Poet's Memoir of Living Off the Grid.
  • You could feel the dread in their voices. He is the author of seven books of poetry, most recently Carthage , and the co-author of two books about teaching poetry. He lives with his wife in Hallowell, Maine. Click for larger image. University Press of New England. This author is no stranger to the writing world. Wormser is what many people would call a true American individualist—in the best sense of that description—though he would be hesitant to embrace that phrase.

    Put the two together in this first memoir, and one achieves that rare combination of writing that is active—full of the day and week and work of life—and reflective—laced with what-it-all-might-mean meditation. As he describes the characters who reside in his small community in Maine, the demands of keeping up with kerosene lamps and wild gardens, the dashed hopes for the community library lost to fire, the wear and tear of time, roads, wells, and woods—he never loses the context of literary history.

    For Wormser, nature is ordinary and larger than life, metaphorical in its parallels to human endeavor. Of trees, he writes: