As David Ignatow's foreword notes, the time is ripe for a multicultural canonical modernist, and Marzan himself, a poet with Puerto Rican roots, has produced an insightful study of Williams' sometimes hidden, sometimes obvious debt to his Spanish American heritage. At the same time, Marzan raises serious questions about how 'ethnic' literature shapes the modern canon. --American Literature I have been waiting for some time for a study of Williams's Latin American roots, and this book fills that bill. . . . It's a significant addition to the Williams canon. --Paul Mariani, author of William Carlos Williams: A New World Naked William Carlos Williams wrote from an all-encompassing American vision that recalls the spirit of Walt Whitman. Paradoxically, though, this most-American poet sprang from foreign roots--a Puerto Rican mother and a father who was an English-born Caribbean islander. In this poetically evocative work, Julio Marzan explores the Latin American roots of Williams' poetry. In particular, he focuses on the dualities and contradictions between Williams' public, North American persona, Bill, and his private, poetically encrypted Latin persona, Carlos. He shows how Williams' poetry draws on Latin American and Spanish sources, particularly the poetry of Spaniard Luis de Gongora, to encode a Latin subtext in poems that ostensibly present a mainstream, Anglo vision. These explorations uncover a wealth of complexity in Williams and his poetry. Reflecting the experience of many immigrants, his life and work embody the unreconcilable desires to assimilate and win acceptance in a new land while remaining separate and immersed in the beloved culture of one'sbirth. A published poet, Julio Marzan is also editor of Inventing a Word: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Puerto Rican Poetry.

Hab?a sido un arbusto desmedrado que prolonga sus filamentos hasta encontrar el humus necesario en una tierra neuva. Y c?mo me nutr?a! Me nutr?a con la beatitud con que las hojas tr?mulas de clor?fila se extienden al sol; con la beatitud con que una ra?z encuentra un cad?ver en descompositi?n; con la beatitud con que los convalecientes dan sus pasos vacilantes en las ma?anas de primavera, ba?adas de luz... RAFAEL AR?VALO MART?NEZ

The Autobiography is an unpretentious book; it reads much as Williams talked—spontaneously and often with a special kind of salty humor. But it is a very human story, glowing with warmth and sensitivity. It brings us close to a rare man and lets us share his affectionate concern for the people to whom he ministered, body and soul, through a long rich life as physician and writer. William Carlos Williams’s medical practice and his literary career formed an undivided life. For forty years he was a busy doctor in the town of Rutherford, New Jersey, and yet he was able to write more than thirty books. One of the finest chapters in the Autobiography tells how each of his two roles stimulated and supported the other.

The distinguished American poet, William Carlos Williams, portrays the life, thoughts, and character of his mother through recreations of her conversations.

A dozen poems on love by a New Jersey obstetrician (1883-1963) who often wrote them on office prescription pads. In the title poem, first published when he was 72, he wrote: "What power has love but forgiveness? / In other words / by its intervention / what has been done / can be undone."

Spring and All (1923) is a book of poems by William Carlos Williams. Predominately known as a poet, Williams frequently pushed the limits of prose style throughout his works, often comprised of a seamless blend of both forms of writing. In Spring and All, the closest thing to a manifesto he wrote, Williams addresses the nature of his modern poetics which not only pursues a particularly American idiom, but attempts to capture the relationship between language and the world it describes. Part essay, part poem, Spring and All is a landmark of American literature from a poet whose daring search for the outer limits of life both redefined and expanded the meaning of language itself. “There is a constant barrier between the reader and his consciousness of immediate contact with the world. If there is an ocean it is here.” In Spring and All, Williams identifies the incomprehensible nature of consciousness as the single most important subject of poetry. Accused of being “heartless” and “cruel,” of producing “positively repellant” works of art in order to “make fun of humanity,” Williams doesn’t so much defend himself as dig in his heels. His poetry is addressed “[t]o the imagination” itself; it seeks to break down the “the barrier between sense and the vaporous fringe which distracts the attention from its agonized approaches to the moment.” When he states that “so much depends / upon // a red wheel / barrow,” he refers to the need to understand the nature of language, which keeps us in touch with the world. With a beautifully designed cover and professionally typeset manuscript, this edition of William Carlos Williams’ Spring and All is a classic of American literature reimagined for modern readers.