Damn. Nice catch by Bromwich:

In a brief note, Bishop traces the title to a newspaper misprint for "mammoth," but the reason for its appeal to her is plain when one remembers the man-moth of Shelley's EpipsychidionThen, from the caverns of my dreamy youth ( Read more... )

70. Conversations with Elizabeth Bishop ( Read more... )

Though, re. Wilbur, from Remembering Elizabeth Bishop:

RICHARD WILBUR: The only time that I remember Elizabeth being undelectable, being cross with me, was on the day of a party at John Brinnin's house. When we had taken to the out-of-doors and were having drinks and would soon move on to croquet, Elizabeth took me up on it when I mentioned that we ( Read more... )

There are two ways.

Each of which, of course, is many millions of ways.

There are two ways.

Creatures of one thing at a time, we will always forget this.

No, not that: the creature's what sits on us, pushing the two apart.

You can also allegorize the approach to the thing you can only conditionally think about. Bishop does this: a lot is translatable, but it fades into what isn't quite. I guess that's why she's so unprecedentedly satisfying--she makes a tangible, coherent object and shimmers every part and angle back toward something deeper. Like great wine in a ( Read more... )

Under the Window: Ouro Preto, by Elizabeth Bishop ( Read more... )