Ross Shideler on Tomas Transtromer
My mind is fully blown by Tranströmer's poetry. It represents the ideal for me.
I used to write poems. I carved out my own style and voice, found my way into certain themes. But deep-down, I knew there was an ideal form of utterance that I could not achieve, a way of grasping existence, memory, and wonder with perfect words and subtle images. I am lacking the talent and sensibility to approach that ideal in my own work. My lines are too expressive.
I know that my ideal has to do with the strangeness of the “out there” and not about the vicissitudes or neuroses of the “in here.”
Tranströmer is somehow able to do this effortlessly. It's probably innate genius. In his work, the concrete is hallowed by an implied metaphysical resonance. The understatement is, paradoxically, revelatory and shattering.
My mind is blown by Tranströmer's poems.