New Directions Publishing Corporation

Although a very prolific poet?and arguably America?s greatest?Emily Dickinson (1830?1886) published fewer than a dozen of her eighteen hundred poems. Instead, she created at home small handmade books. When, in her later years, she stopped producing these, she was still writing a great deal, and at her death she left behind many poems, drafts, and letters. It is among the makeshift and fragile manuscripts of Dickinson?s later writings that we find the envelope poems gathered here. These manuscripts on envelopes (recycled by the poet with marked New England thrift) were written with the full powers of her late, most radical period. Intensely alive, these envelope poems are charged with a special poignancy?addressed to no one and everyone at once.Full-color facsimiles are accompanied by Marta L. Werner and Jen Bervin?s pioneering transcriptions of Dickinson?s handwriting. Their transcriptions allow us to read the texts, while the facsimiles let us see exactly what Dickinson wrote (the variant words, crossings-out, dashes, directional fields, spaces, columns, and overlapping planes).

Some of the most rewarding pages in Henry Miller's books concern his self-education as a writer. He tells, as few great writers ever have, how he set his goals, how he discovered the excitement of using words, how the books he read influenced him, and how he learned to draw on his own experience.

Portraying himself as a failure, the protagonist of Osamu Dazai's No Longer Human narrates a seemingly normal life even while he feels himself incapable of understanding human beings. Oba Yozo's attempts to reconcile himself to the world around him begin in early childhood, continue through high school, where he becomes a "clown" to mask his alienation, and eventually lead to a failed suicide attempt as an adult. Without sentimentality, he records the casual cruelties of life and its fleeting moments of human connection and tenderness.

Set in the early postwar years, it probes the destructive effects of war and the transition from a feudal Japan to an industrial society. Ozamu Dazai died, a suicide, in 1948. But the influence of his book has made "people of the setting sun" a permanent part of the Japanese language, and his heroine, Kazuko, a young aristocrat who deliberately abandons her class, a symbol of the anomie which pervades so much of the modern world.

In the course of compiling his highly acclaimed three-volume biography of Kafka, while foraying to libraries and archives from Prague to Israel, Reiner Stach made one astounding discovery after another: unexpected photographs, inconsistencies in handwritten texts, excerpts from letters, and testimonies from Kafka's contemporaries that shed surprising light on his personality and his writing. Is That Kafka? presents the crystal granules of the real Kafka: he couldn't lie, but he tried to cheat on his high-school exams; bitten by the fitness fad, he avidly followed the regime of a Danish exercise guru; he drew beautifully; he loved beer; he read biographies voraciously; he made the most beautiful presents, especially for children; odd things made him cry or made him furious; he adored slapstick. Every discovery by Stach turns on its head the stereotypical version of the tortured neurotic--and as each one chips away at the monolithic dark Kafka, the keynote, of all things, becomes laughter. For Is That Kafka? Stach has assembled 99 of his most exciting discoveries, culling the choicest, most entertaining bits, and adding his knowledgeable commentaries. Illustrated with dozens of previously unknown images, this volume is a singular literary pleasure.

In 1953 Lawrence Ferlinghetti founded the first paperback bookstore in the United States. In over five decades City Lights, the bookstore and publisher, has become a Mecca for millions. Ferlinghetti's A Coney Island of the Mind (ND, 1958) is a number one best-selling volume of poetry by any living American poet.

Spadework for a Palace bears the subtitle "Entering the Madness of Others" and offers an epigraph: "Reality is no obstacle." Indeed. This high-octane obsessive rant vaults over all obstacles, fueled by the idees fixe of a "gray little librarian" with fallen arches whose name-mr herman melvill-is merely one of the coincidences binding him to his lodestar Herman Melville ("I too resided on East 26th Street . . . I, too, had worked for a while at the Customs Office"), which itself is just one aspect of his also being "constantly conscious of his connectedness" to Lebbeus Woods, to the rock that is Manhattan, to the "drunkard Lowry" and his Lunar Caustic, to Bartok. And with this consciousness of connection he is not only gaining true knowledge of Melville, but also tracing the paths to "a Serene Paradise of Knowledge." Driven to save that Palace (a higher library he also serves), he loses his job and his wife leaves him, but "people must be told the truth: there is no dualism in existence." And his dream will be "realized, for I am not giving up: I am merely a day-laborer, a spade-worker on this dream, a herman melvill, a librarian from the lending desk, currently an inmate at Bellevue, but at the same time-may I say this?-actually a Keeper of the Palace."

"That woman who killed the fish unfortunately is me," begins the title story, but "if it were my fault, I'd own up to you, since I don't lie to boys and girls. I only lie sometimes to a certain type of grownup because there's no other way." Enumerating all the animals she's loved-cats, dogs, lizards, chickens, monkeys-Clarice finally asks: "Do you forgive me?" "The Mystery of the Thinking Rabbit" is a detective story that explains that bunnies think with their noses: for a single idea a bunny might "scrunch up his nose fifteen thousand times" (he may not be too bright, but "he's not foolish at all when it comes to making babies"). The third tale, "Almost True," is a shaggy dog yarn narrated by a pooch who is very worried about a wicked witch: "I am a dog named Ulisses and my owner is Clarice." The wonderful last story, "Laura's Intimate Life" stars "the nicest hen I've ever seen." Laura is "quite dumb," but she has her "little thoughts and feelings. Not a lot, but she's definitely got them. Just knowing she's not completely dumb makes her feel all chatty and giddy. She thinks that she thinks." A one-eyed visitor from Jupiter arrives and vows Laura will never be eaten: she's been worrying, because "humans are a weird sort of person" who can love hens and eat them, too. Such throw away wisdom abounds: "Don't even get me started." These delightful, high-hearted stories, written for her own boys, have charm to burn and are a treat for every Lispector reader.

A writer is offered a devil’s bargain: will he give up reading books in exchange for total world domination? A certain writer ("past sixty, enjoying 'a certain renown'") strolls through the old book market in a Buenos Aires park: "My Sunday walk through the market, repeated over so many years, was part of my general fantasizing about books." Unfortunately, he is suffering from writer's block. However, that proves to be the least of our hero's problems. In the market, he fails to avoid the insufferable boor Ovando?"a complete loser" but a "man supremely full of himself: Conceit was never less justified." And yet, is Ovando a master magician? Can he turn sugar cubes into pure gold? And can our protagonist decline the offer Ovando proposes granting him absolute power if the writer never in his life reads another book? And is his publisher also a great magician? And the writer's wife? Only César Aira could have cooked up this witch's potion (and only he would plop in phantom Mont Blanc pens as well as fearsome crocodiles from the banks of the Nile)?a brew bubbling over with the question: where does literature end and magic begin?

It is remarkable that any Westerner?even so fine a poet as Kenneth Rexroth?could have captured in translation so much of the subtle essence of classic Japanese poetry: the depth of controlled passion, the austere elegance of style, the compressed richness of imagery. The poems are drawn chiefly from the traditional Manyoshu, Kokinshu and Hyakunin Isshu collections, but there are also examplaes of haiku and other later forms. The sound of the Japanese texts i reproduced in Romaji script and the names of the poets in the calligraphy of Ukai Uchiyama. The translator's introduction gives us basic background on the history and nature of Japanese poetry, which is supplemented by notes on the individual poets and an extensive bibliography.