Six Mile Mountain: Poems
2 journalers for this copy...
KIRKUS REVIEW
Tillinghast is often referred to as a poet disposed toward work in “the Irish Tradition.” The road to “Six Mile Mountain,” however, despite an enticing buildup, is quite uneven. There are obstacles to full enjoyment, and the poet himself stumbles at times, finally falling headlong into that enormous pothole called “trendiness.” He does haul himself out and continues along the path from which he strayed, but the journey for his readers is marred by these lapses. Tillinghast does his better work in the more traditional forms of the opening and closing poems. Here his voice resonates clearly. He speaks of finding his father in his workshop, for example, “a nimbus of sawdust surrounding his concentration.” Later on, he pays additional homage in a work that intersperses phrases from the Lord’s Prayer with images of his father in his favorite glen plaid, a jacket the poet has inherited. These poems, many dealing with the enigma of loss, are rich in the details that anchor them to specific memories in the poet’s life. Tillinghast’s ear is attuned to the rhythms of language, and the verses about home and school and long walks through a verdant, rainy countryside are evocative and sensual. But his trendy poems have little to recommend them beyond the occasional clever phrase, such as when he compares the world to an adolescent boy “with a Walkman, a can of Coke and an Uzi.”
Though Tillinghast’s collection is scattered and unfocused, and the poet often speaks in a voice as irritating as a falsetto, these do not provide sufficient reasons to avoid him.
Tillinghast is often referred to as a poet disposed toward work in “the Irish Tradition.” The road to “Six Mile Mountain,” however, despite an enticing buildup, is quite uneven. There are obstacles to full enjoyment, and the poet himself stumbles at times, finally falling headlong into that enormous pothole called “trendiness.” He does haul himself out and continues along the path from which he strayed, but the journey for his readers is marred by these lapses. Tillinghast does his better work in the more traditional forms of the opening and closing poems. Here his voice resonates clearly. He speaks of finding his father in his workshop, for example, “a nimbus of sawdust surrounding his concentration.” Later on, he pays additional homage in a work that intersperses phrases from the Lord’s Prayer with images of his father in his favorite glen plaid, a jacket the poet has inherited. These poems, many dealing with the enigma of loss, are rich in the details that anchor them to specific memories in the poet’s life. Tillinghast’s ear is attuned to the rhythms of language, and the verses about home and school and long walks through a verdant, rainy countryside are evocative and sensual. But his trendy poems have little to recommend them beyond the occasional clever phrase, such as when he compares the world to an adolescent boy “with a Walkman, a can of Coke and an Uzi.”
Though Tillinghast’s collection is scattered and unfocused, and the poet often speaks in a voice as irritating as a falsetto, these do not provide sufficient reasons to avoid him.
Journal Entry 2 by 
Cordelia-anne
at -- Wild released somewhere in the state, Georgia USA on Sunday, January 20, 2019
Cordelia-anne at -- Wild released somewhere in the state, Georgia USA on Sunday, January 20, 2019
So many of these poems were enchanting or powerful. I was particularly struck by the poems "I Am Like A Tree" and "Petition," pages 40-42 for their honesty. Many more like "A Morning," page 20, and "The Bacon," page 50, which speak of Tillinghast's life as writer and family provider are treasures. I will read more of this poet's work.
Hello! You've received this book from bookcrossing, a random community of book lovers. If you'd like to join the bookcrossing story of this book, please make a journal entry at our site with the BCID (bookcrossing ID) on the bookplate. Bookcrossing is free to join and confidential. The book label features Georgia artist Steffen Thomas' sculpture TRILON, which is at an intersection of Peachtree and 15th Streets at the High Museum and Colony Square in Atlanta. A native of Fürth, Germany, Thomas was of Welch and German ancestry. He first made his home here in Georgia back in the 1930s and married Sara Douglass, a Southern lady from a prominent Atlanta family, in 1933. Sara became his lifelong muse. They raised four children in Stone Mountain, Georgia, near his studio. Trilon honors the Southern Woman.
A guide of the mind,
he hauls words up
into a sky of ears.
he hauls words up
into a sky of ears.
