000			01396nam a2200229 a 4500
001			031007
005			20231009193416.0
008			120807s1987 nyu 000 0 eng
010			_a86045511
020			_a9780394747705
050	0	0	_aPS3565.L34 _bG6 1987
082	0	0	_a811.54 OLD
100	1		_aOlds, Sharon
245	1	4	_aThe gold cell _b: poems _c/ by Sharon Olds
250			_a1st ed.
260			_aNew York _b: Knopf _b: Distributed by Random House _c, 1987.
300			_aix, 91 p. _c; 22 cm.
490	0		_aThe Knopf poetry series _v; 25
520			_aBeneath the surface of life Olds discovers ``what all of us want never to know''her own sexuality. Her obsessive descriptions of sex are too candid to be erotic: ``the condom/ripped and the seed tore into me like a/ flame.'' With evocative imagery (``We think about bones twisted like white/ saplings''), Olds searches through ``all the eloquence of the body'' for the means to assess her roles as daughter, lover, wife, mother, and woman. Despite a too-easy solipsism (``I looked at you and I tell you I knew you were God/ and I was God''), the best poetry occurs when Olds presents moments of awakening as though they had just happened--her baby's arms ``bent like a crab's rosy legs, the/ thighs closely-packed plums in heavy syrup.'' For poet and reader such moments are purifying.
650		4	_aPoetry, American
942			_cMO
999			_c269808 _d269808