A book of loss, looking back, and what binds us to life, by a towering poetic talent, called "one of the poetry stars of his generation" (Los Angeles Times).
"We sleep long, / if not sound," Kevin Young writes early on in this exquisite gathering of poems, "Till the end/ we sing / into the wind." In scenes and settings that circle family and the generations in the American South--one poem, "Kith," exploring that strange bedfellow of "kin"--the speaker and his young son wander among the stones of their ancestors. "Like heat he seeks them, / my son, thirsting / to learn those / he don't know / are his dead."
Whether it's the fireflies of a Louisiana summer caught in a mason jar (doomed by their collection), or his grandmother, Mama Annie, who latches the screen door when someone steps out for just a moment, all that makes up our flickering precarious joy, all that we want to protect, is lifted into the light in this moving book. Stones becomes an ode to Young's home places and his dear departed, and to what of them—of us—poetry can save.
A Library Journal top ten poetry title of 2021 A Financial Times best poetry book of 2021 One of Washington Post critic Ron Charles’s twelve favorite poetry collections of 2021 A New York Times “Editor’s Choice” selection One of TIME’s “34 most anticipated books to read this fall” One of Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s “10 must-read Southern books this fall” One of Thrillist’s “24 Books We Can’t Wait to Read This Fall”
“An exceptionally beautiful collection, full of retrospection, longing, and grief ambered into verse.” —Ron Charles, The Washington Post
“In Stones, Young mines his familial history and calls out moments of sorrow and joy, from musings on his grandmother Mama Annie to poems that consider the generations of people that have lived in the American South. The result is a blistering look at love, loss and everything in between.” —TIME
“Stones combines brevity and sharp line breaks. . . . A book of language at its limits.” —The Guardian
“Joy and sorrow are inseparable in this volume of reminiscence rooted in the American South. . . . [The] poet crafts exquisite portraits of the people he loves and the places he calls home.” —Oprah Quarterly
“Young transforms memories, grief into beauty . . . We are lucky he allows us to travel with him into his past and glance over his shoulder.” —Jeremy Redmon, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“Distilled meditations on the deep resonance of family and home . . . Evocations of church services, rain, sun, and the music of the dark entwine nature and human longing . . . For Young, words are stones; poems are cairns.” —Donna Seaman, Booklist
“With superbly crafted poems that engage the past and the present, Young delivers another ambitious collection across seven lyrically powerful sections. . . . These elegant, measured poems offer insight into the troubled moment through an exhumation of the past, while giving the reader plenty of depth and beauty to carry into the future.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)
KEVIN YOUNG is the Andrew W. Mellon Director of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture and the author of fifteen books of poetry and prose. He is also the poetry editor of The New Yorker, where he hosts the Poetry Podcast, and is the editor of nine other anthology volumes, including African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song.
View titles by Kevin Young
Resume
Where the train once rained through town like a river, where the water
rose in early summer & froze come winter— where the moon
of the outhouse shone its crescent welcome, where the heavens opened
& the sun wouldn’t quit— past the gully or gulch or holler or ditch
I was born. Or, torn— Dragged myself
atop this mountain fueled by flour, butter- milk, grease fires.
Where I’m from women speak in burnt tongues
& someone’s daddy dug a latrine so deep up from the dark
A book of loss, looking back, and what binds us to life, by a towering poetic talent, called "one of the poetry stars of his generation" (Los Angeles Times).
"We sleep long, / if not sound," Kevin Young writes early on in this exquisite gathering of poems, "Till the end/ we sing / into the wind." In scenes and settings that circle family and the generations in the American South--one poem, "Kith," exploring that strange bedfellow of "kin"--the speaker and his young son wander among the stones of their ancestors. "Like heat he seeks them, / my son, thirsting / to learn those / he don't know / are his dead."
Whether it's the fireflies of a Louisiana summer caught in a mason jar (doomed by their collection), or his grandmother, Mama Annie, who latches the screen door when someone steps out for just a moment, all that makes up our flickering precarious joy, all that we want to protect, is lifted into the light in this moving book. Stones becomes an ode to Young's home places and his dear departed, and to what of them—of us—poetry can save.
Praise
A Library Journal top ten poetry title of 2021 A Financial Times best poetry book of 2021 One of Washington Post critic Ron Charles’s twelve favorite poetry collections of 2021 A New York Times “Editor’s Choice” selection One of TIME’s “34 most anticipated books to read this fall” One of Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s “10 must-read Southern books this fall” One of Thrillist’s “24 Books We Can’t Wait to Read This Fall”
“An exceptionally beautiful collection, full of retrospection, longing, and grief ambered into verse.” —Ron Charles, The Washington Post
“In Stones, Young mines his familial history and calls out moments of sorrow and joy, from musings on his grandmother Mama Annie to poems that consider the generations of people that have lived in the American South. The result is a blistering look at love, loss and everything in between.” —TIME
“Stones combines brevity and sharp line breaks. . . . A book of language at its limits.” —The Guardian
“Joy and sorrow are inseparable in this volume of reminiscence rooted in the American South. . . . [The] poet crafts exquisite portraits of the people he loves and the places he calls home.” —Oprah Quarterly
“Young transforms memories, grief into beauty . . . We are lucky he allows us to travel with him into his past and glance over his shoulder.” —Jeremy Redmon, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
“Distilled meditations on the deep resonance of family and home . . . Evocations of church services, rain, sun, and the music of the dark entwine nature and human longing . . . For Young, words are stones; poems are cairns.” —Donna Seaman, Booklist
“With superbly crafted poems that engage the past and the present, Young delivers another ambitious collection across seven lyrically powerful sections. . . . These elegant, measured poems offer insight into the troubled moment through an exhumation of the past, while giving the reader plenty of depth and beauty to carry into the future.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)
KEVIN YOUNG is the Andrew W. Mellon Director of the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture and the author of fifteen books of poetry and prose. He is also the poetry editor of The New Yorker, where he hosts the Poetry Podcast, and is the editor of nine other anthology volumes, including African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle & Song.
View titles by Kevin Young
Excerpt
Resume
Where the train once rained through town like a river, where the water
rose in early summer & froze come winter— where the moon
of the outhouse shone its crescent welcome, where the heavens opened
& the sun wouldn’t quit— past the gully or gulch or holler or ditch
I was born. Or, torn— Dragged myself
atop this mountain fueled by flour, butter- milk, grease fires.
Where I’m from women speak in burnt tongues
& someone’s daddy dug a latrine so deep up from the dark
