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About this poet

On April 27, 1934, Jean Valentine was born in Chicago, Illinois. She received a BA from Radcliffe College in 1956 and has lived most of her life in New York City.

In 1964, Valentine's first book Dream Barker (Yale University Press, 1965) was chosen for the Yale Series of Younger Poets. She is the author of several poetry collections, including Shirt in Heaven (Copper Canyon Press, 2015); Door in the Mountain: New and Collected Poems (Wesleyan University Press, 2004), which won the National Book Award; and Home Deep Blue: New and Selected Poems (Alice James Books, 1989). She is also the editor of The Lighthouse Keeper: Essays on the Poetry of Eleanor Ross Taylor (Seneca Review, 2001).

Though her work is frequently identified as having a political subtext, Valentine does not see herself as a "political poet" She explains: "I felt I was more in line with somebody like Elizabeth Bishop, who wouldn't talk about it usually very directly. She wrote a lot that had a political nature, especially after she was in Latin America, but she would never have described herself as a political poet. 'Political poet' means to me that there's something present in the work, and in the poet, that isn't in mine or in me."

Valentine has been awarded grants and fellowships from the Rockefeller Foundation, the National Endowment for the Arts, the New York State Council on the Arts, the Guggenheim Foundation, and the Bunting Institute. In 2000, she received the Shelley Memorial Prize from the Poetry Society of America. She is the recipient of the 2009 Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets

In response to a question about writing and revising, Valentine has said "It seems to me to be a process of looking for something in there, rather than having something and revising it. I don't consider that I really have anything yet--except inchoate mess. As I work on it, I'm always trying to hear the sound of the words, and trying to take out everything that doesn't feel alive. That's my goal: to take out everything that doesn't feel alive. And also to get to a place that has some depth to it. Certainly I'm always working with things that I don't understand--with the unconscious, the invisible. And trying to find a way to translate it."

Valentine taught at New York University until 2004, and in recent years has also taught workshops and seminars at the 92nd St. Y, the University of Pittsburgh, Sarah Lawrence College, the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, and Columbia University. She lives in New York City.


Bibliography

Shirt in Heaven (Copper Canyon Press, 2015)
Break the Glass (Copper Canyon Press, 2010)
Lucy (Sarabande Books, 2009)
Little Boat (Wesleyan University Press, 2007)
Door in the Mountain: New and Collected Poems (Wesleyan University Press, 2004)
The Cradle of the Real Life (Wesleyan University Press, 2000) 
Growing Darkness, Growing Light (Carnegie-Mellon University Press, 1997)
The River at Wolf (Alice James Books, 1992)
Home Deep Blue: New and Selected Poems (Alice James Books, 1989)
Dream Barker (Yale University Press, 1965)

Red Cloth

Red cloth
I lie on the ground
otherwise nothing could hold

I put my hand on the ground
the membrane is gone
and nothing does hold

your place in the ground
is all of it
and it is breathing

Copyright © 2009 by Jean Valentine. Originally published in The Nation. Used by permission of the author.

Copyright © 2009 by Jean Valentine. Originally published in The Nation. Used by permission of the author.

Jean Valentine

Jean Valentine

The author of many collections of poetry, Jean Valentine has received such honors as the National Book Award, the Yale Series of Younger Poets Prize, and the Wallace Stevens Award from the Academy of American Poets.

by this poet

poem
The branches looked first like tepees,
but there was no emptiness.

Like piles of leaves waiting for fire:
at the foot of the wisewoman trees,
at the foot of the broken General,

next to the tree of the veteran
girl who died this summer       slow red
cloth
poem
I needed a friend but
I was in the other room
—not just the other room,
another frame
dragging         blue
or brighter blue:           strange lights:

The doctor singing from The Song of Songs
'in the secret places of the stairs'

Us standing there	  in the past
as we were
in life
you turning and
poem
There's one day a year
they can return, 
if they want.
He says he won't again.
I ask what it's like—
he quotes St. Paul:
"Now hope is sweet."
Then in his own voice.
Oh well it's a great scandal,
the naked are easier to kill.