Readers of poetry make aesthetic judgements about verse. It is quite common to hear intuitive statements about poets' rhythms. It is said, for example, that Joseph Brodsky, the Russian poet and 1987 Nobel Prize laureate, "sounds English" when he writes in Russian. Yet, it is far from clear what this statement means from a linguistic point of view. What is English about Brodsky's Russian poetry? And in what way are his "English" rhythms different from the verse of his Russian predecessors? The book provides an analysis of Brodsky's experiment bringing evidence from an unusually wide variety of disciplines and theories rarely combined in a single study, including the generative approach to meter; the Russian quantitative approach, analysis of readers' intuitions about poetic rhythm, analysis of the poet's source readings, as well as acoustic phonetics, statistics, and archival research. The distinct analytic approaches applied in this book to the same phenomenon complement one another each providing insight alternate approaches do not, and showing that only a combination of theories and methods allows us to fully appreciate what Brodsky's "English accent" really was, and what any poetic innovation means.

This volume is a major contribution to the study of the life, work and standing of Joseph Brodsky, 1987 Nobel Prize Laureate and the best-known Russian poet of the second half of the twentieth century. This is the most significant book devoted to him in the last 25 years, and features work by many of the leading experts on him, both in Russia and the West. Every one of the chapters makes a real contribution to different aspects of Brodsky – the growth of interest in his work, his world view and political position, and the unique aspects of his poetics. Taken together, the sixteen chapters offer a rounded interpretation of his significance for Russian culture today.

The Bilingual Muse analyzes the work of seven Russian poets who translated their own poems into English, French, German, or Italian. Investigating the parallel versions of self-translated poetic texts by Vladimir Nabokov, Joseph Brodsky, Andrey Gritsman, Katia Kapovich, Marina Tsvetaeva, Wassily Kandinsky, and Elizaveta Kul’man, Adrian Wanner considers how verbal creativity functions in different languages, the conundrum of translation, and the vagaries of bilingual identities. Wanner argues that the perceived marginality of self-translation stems from a romantic privileging of the mother tongue and the original text. The unprecedented recent dispersion of Russian speakers over three continents has led to the emergence of a new generation of diasporic Russians who provide a more receptive milieu for multilingual creativity.

This book examines the life and art of those contemporary artists who by force or by choice find themselves on other shores. It argues that the exilic challenge enables the émigré artist to (re)establish new artistic devices, new laws and a new language of communication in both his everyday life and his artistic work.

"Poetry born of historical upheaval bears witness both to actual historical events and considerations of poetics. Under the duress of history the poet, who is torn between lamentation and celebration, seeks to achieve distance from his troubled times. Add to this a deep love for and commitment to the Irish and English poetic traditions, and a strong desire to search for models outside his culture, and you have the poetry of the Irish Nobel laureate Seamus Heaney (1939-). In this study, Carmen Bugan looks at how the poetry of Seamus Heaney, born of the Troubles in Northern Ireland, has encountered the'historically-tested imaginations' of Czeslaw Milosz, Joseph Brodsky, Osip Mandelstam, and Zbigniew Herbert, as he aimed to fulfil a Horatian poetics, a poetry meant to both instruct and delight its readers. Carmen Bugan is the author of a collection of poems, Crossing the Carpathians, and a memoir, Burying the Typewriter."

Translation is a very important tool in our multilingual world. Excellent translation is a sine qua non in the work of the Swedish Academy, responsible for the Nobel Prize in Literature. In order to establish a forum for discussing fundamental aspects of the translation of poetry and poetic prose, a Nobel Symposium on this subject was organized.The list of contributors includes Sture All‚n, Jean Boase-Beier, Philippe Bouquet, Anders Cullhed, Gunnel Engwall, Eugene Eoyang, Efim Etkind, Inga-Stina Ewbank, Knut Faldbakken, Seamus Heaney, Lyn Hejinian, Bengt Jangfeldt, Francis R Jones, Elke Liebs, Gunilla Lindberg-Wada, G”ran Malmqvist, Shimon Markish, Margaret Mitsutani, Judith Moffett, Mariya Novykova, Tim Parks, Ulla Roseen, Emmanuela Tandello, Eliot Weinberger, Daniel Weissbort, and Fran(oise Wuilmart.

"Este libro ofrece el caso de estudio perfecto para explorar algo que me parece crucial para la poesía contemporánea: la relación del sinsentido con la belleza del lenguaje, con la belleza descrita provisionalmente como impresiones sensoriales, emocionales, intelectuales o imaginativas, fuertes y positivas, ya sea por sí sola o en alguna de estas combinaciones. Hace tiempo que pienso que lo indecible también debe participar de alguna manera en esta relación. Lo que plantea el tema de la relación entre el sinsentido y lo indecible. ¿Es el sinsentido un intento valiente de articular lo indecible? ¿O es una especie de juego de manos que nos permite vislumbrarlo? Bitter Green está lleno de ejemplos perfectos de bello sinsentido, como los cuatro versos que abren una de sus páginas: “Un alcatraz que atraviesa el óleo no puede / y un pardillo sin siquiera un canto / el invierno salda las cuentas todas / el agua sin cauce sobre la tierra”. "This offers the perfect case study for exploring something that I feel is crucial to contemporary poetry—the relationship of nonsense to beauty in language, particularly written language, with beauty provisionally described as strong and positive sensual, emotional, intellectual, or imaginative impressions, either alone or in some combination. I’ve long thought that the unsayable must somehow also be involved in this relationship. Which raises the question of the relationship between nonsense and the unsayable. Is nonsense a valiant attempt to articulate the unsayable? Or is it a kind of sleight of hand that allows us to catch a glimpse of it? Bitter Green is full of perfect examples of beautiful nonsense, such as the four lines that open one page: “A gannet thru the oil cannot / and a linnet sans a song / the winter is of every count / the water without ground.” - COLE SWENSEN