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Maureen N. McLane

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Maureen N. McLane

Maureen N. McLane studied at Harvard University, the University of Oxford, and the University of Chicago, where she received a PhD in English in 1997.

She is the author of the poetry collections Mz N: the serial: A Poem-in-Episodes (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2016); This Blue (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2014), a finalist for the 2014 National Book Award; World Enough (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010); and Same Life (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008).

McLane is also known for her work in literary criticism and scholarship, focusing on British romanticism and the history of English poetry. She coedited The Cambridge Companion to British Romantic Poetry (Cambridge University Press, 2008) and is the author of Balladeering, Minstrelsy, and the Making of British Romantic Poetry (Cambridge University Press, 2008), as well as the hybrid book of memoir and criticism My Poets (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2012), which was a finalist for the 2012 National Book Critics Circle Award. 

McLane has previously taught at Harvard University, MIT, and the East Harlem Poetry Project, and she served on the board of the National Book Critics Circle from 2007 to 2010. She has received numerous awards and fellowships, including a National Book Critics Circle’s Balakian Award for Excellence in Book Reviewing and a Rhodes Scholarship. She currently serves as a professor of English at New York University and lives in New York City.


Bibliography

Poetry
Mz N: the serial: A Poem-in-Episodes (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2016)
This Blue (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2014)
World Enough (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010)
Same Life (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008)

Prose
My Poets (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2012)
Balladeering, Minstrelsy, and the Making of British Romantic Poetry (Cambridge University Press, 2008)

by this poet

poem

and if
I were to say

I love you and
I do love you

and I say it
now and again

and again
would you say

parataxis
would you see

the world revolves
anew

its axis
you
poem
little moth
I do not think you'll escape
this night

I do not think
you'll escape this night
little moth

               *

bees in clover
summer half over
friends without lovers

               *

I bite a carrot
horsefly bites me

               *

I thought it was you
moving through the trees

but it was the
poem

They were not kidding
when they said they were blinded
by a vision of love.

It was not just a manner
of speaking or feeling
though it’s hard to say

how the dead
really felt harder
even than knowing the living.

You are so opaque
to me your brief