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Gabriel: A Poem, by Edward Hirsch
Download Gabriel: A Poem, by Edward Hirsch
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Review
“Hirsch’s poem Gabriel, is as raw, as relentless in its inconsolability, as anything I’ve read.” --David Ulin, Los Angeles Times"Part tribute; part existential howl; part intellectual investigation of our most primal emotions; part novella-like, buoyant, unsentimental romp through the life of Hirsch’s ‘wild spirit, beloved son…’”--Emily Rapp, New York Times Book Review"Hirsch's lightening-lit portrait of and surging lament for his hurricane of a son is a courageous, generous, and reverberating epic of fatherly love and mourning."--Donna Seaman, Booklist, starred reivew "Embedded within Gabriel is a picaresque novella about a tempestuous boy and young man, a part Hirsch calls 'the adventures of Gabriel...' [The poet] Eavan Boland described Gabriel as 'a masterpiece of sorrow. . . the creation of the loved and lost boy is one of the poem's most important effects.'"--Alec Wilkinson, The New Yorker "Unpunctuated, unrhymed triplets serve Hirsch’s grief and tell his story well. . . a near-unforgettable book-length verse memoir describing the life and death, the rambunctious childhood, the adventurous youth, the funeral, and the enduring memory, of the poet’s only son."--Publishers Weekly"Gabriel resists sentimentality at every line break, though it is the most heartfelt poem I have read."--Tim Adams, The Observer “Gabriel is an exquisite document of loss.”--Michael Andor Brodeur, Boston GlobeFrom the Hardcover edition.
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About the Author
Edward Hirsch has published eight books of poetry and five books of prose. He lives in Brooklyn, New York. From the Hardcover edition.
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Product details
Paperback: 96 pages
Publisher: Knopf; Reprint edition (March 1, 2016)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0804172870
ISBN-13: 978-0804172875
Product Dimensions:
6 x 0.4 x 9 inches
Shipping Weight: 12.6 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
Average Customer Review:
4.7 out of 5 stars
53 customer reviews
Amazon Best Sellers Rank:
#285,596 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
This poem reminded me of something. I pulled Emily Dickinson, John Ciardi's Dante, and Felix Feneon's Novels in Three Lines off the shelf. Dickinson was too nineteenth century, but plenty of truth there. Ciardi had the three-line stanza, but he was doing Dante and had to haul out every word he knew. Feneon was closest. As a journalist, he had to call death by its right name.In his new book-length poem Gabriel, Edward Hirsch has given his dead son a proper send off and he has begun the task of placing the boy's life in some sort of perspective. It takes a special lens. Gabriel was an adopted child born with a mysterious developmental disorder that made him impetuous, impatient, and loud. No school could hold him. He never had the natural fear of danger that keeps most of us alive. He was never, his father tells us, scared enough of drug dealers, one of whom sold him the tab of GBH that carried him off. I'm pretty sure Mr. Hirsch would never use even that level of metaphor for his son's death. The poem has no sentimentality, no anodyne phrases, no metaphors or euphemisms for death. The death of Gabriel was ugly, sudden, frightening, and final. When I read the poem, I felt lucky to glimpse this remarkable child's life. Fierce energy, sleepless always, loud opinions about everything and everyone, he was loved and his father writes, with an even, steady hand, of his life and his death.What I value most in this poem, after learning about what happened to Gabriel, is the use of language. It is restrained conversation, quiet, precise and respectful. And it's all here. Hirsch places Gabriel as a baby in the context of his childless marriage, the joy of the baby's arrival and the slow realization that Gabriel would be a challenge in every sense. We wend our way through Gabriel's childhood and confront the utter helplessness adults -- parents, teachers, psychiatrists -- inevitably felt when they tried to help him. As he became a young man, Gabriel described most encounters with those who tried to help with outspoken contempt. He would never accept when anyone, or the world at large, told him no. No, his father tells us, was just a meaningless word spoken on the way to yes. We share the clutching panic of parents whose developmentally disabled son disappears, but at an age that makes him too young and too old to warrant police intervention. Thankfully, the parents' investigation of the last number called on their son's phone leads them to the emergency personnel who were called the night Gabriel collapsed and died. To know, after so many days of not knowing, is an inexpressible relief.This is a book to be reread periodically. It is a comfort for those whom the syrupy ways we usually talk about death mean nothing, less than nothing. Everything about this poem is an attempt to hold a life still for a moment. A life that was never actually still, or quiet, until it finally was.
It is almost impossible to adequately describe or do justice to Edward Hirsch's heart-wrenching elegy about the short life and death of his son Gabriel. Consisting of three-lined stanzas with no punctuation that extends for 78 pages, it is part biography, part ode, part lament--you name it. Mr. Hirsch does an amazing job of letting the personality and life of his beloved son come through these grief-soaked lines. Hirsch and his wife Janet Landay adopted their son Gabriel when he was an infant and welcomed him into their lives. We got glimpses of his childhood, troubled young adulthood and ultimate early death from an apparent accidental drug overdose: "He was trouble/But he was our trouble." Interspersed among the lines that lets us see who his son was, Mr. Hirsch includes the stories of other poets throughout history who have lost children, surely what is the ultimate horror of every parent, what is completely unnatural: the burial of a childMuch of this poem will break your heart:In the casket I hope it's comfortableHe would have scorned the old JewWe hired to sit with him overnightJanet [you have to love this woman] didn't want him to be by himselfI'm sure he was annoyed by the prayersI wonder if he believed in God I never askedHe was sometimes scaredHe was never scared enoughOf scoundrels and drug dealersAfter Gabriel disappeared, his parents tried to find him:We called 911 every dayThe police refused to help usWe begged them to help they refusedBecause he wasn't under sixteen or over sixty-fiveMr. Hirsch catalogues the things that Gabriel loved, convincing me that I would like his son: Six Flags, Sea World, retracing Columbus' journey to the New World, Rome, absinthe, his 3000 green Acura Integra, New York City, the Yankees, the Giants, strong coffee, "Dogs were his natural friends," his twenty-second birthday.The author cannot be comforted:I did not know the work of mourningIs like carrying a bag of cementUp a mountain at nightI did not know the work of mourningIs a labor in the darkWe carry inside ourselvesFinally Mr. Hirsch has harsh words for an "indifferent God":Close the prayer book I will not pretendThat God brings peace upon usAnd upon all IsraelI will not forgive youIndifferent GodUntil you give me back my sonIf there is any consolation to be had from this poem that I have read two times now, it has to be that all of us must confront the deaths--if not of a child--then someone else whom we love dearly.
I feel that if I could write I would have written this poem for my recently passed son with only a few minor changes. The pain is there is most intense between the lines. As with my Robert, Gabriel was born under a bad star and it eventually took him. I also get the feeling of grief that stretches all the way back, knowing in your soul this would never end well. So I may be in a unique position having lived it so I greatly appreciate it.
I really don't know much about poetry. I don't know how a poem should be written. Some reviewers have mentioned that this is not true poetry. Well, I don't really care. When I read any book, I want to be taken beyond my regular life, to feel someone else's grief or happiness. This book accomplished that. But I suspect the author/poet wrote this poem more for himself than for us. And for that I thank him.
As a parent, I found Gabriel to be a powerful contemplation of the life and death of the poet's son. It explores what we can know, understand and control and what we can't (or shouldn't if we could). As parents, we constantly struggle with honoring who our child is and trying to mold them into the perfect, or at least most acceptable, version of themselves they can be. Sometimes, our children don't give us a choice in how that process proceeds, especially as they grow and go out into the world. If you want perfect poetry, read Keats. This is a personal story, told in poetry.
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