From the introduction by Michael Hamburger: “Baudelaire's prose poems were written at long intervals during the last twelve or thirteen years of his life. The prose poem was a medium much suited to his habits and character. Being pre-eminently a moralist, he needed a medium that enabled him to illustrate a moral insight as briefly and vividly as possible. Being an artist and sensualist, he needed a medium that was epigrammatic or aphoristic, but allowed him scope for fantasy and for that element of suggestiveness which he considered essential to beauty. His thinking about society and politics, as about everything else, was experimental; like the thinking of most poets it drew on experience and imagination, rather than on facts and general arguments. That is another reason why the prose poem proved a medium so congenial to Baudelaire.” Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867) was a French poet, essayist, art critic and translator for Edgar Allan Poe. He is credited with coining the term "modernity" to describe the fleeting, ephemeral experience of life in an urban metropolis and the responsibility art has to capture that experience.

A new edition of the Russian Nobelist's collection of novellas, short stories, and prose poems Stories and Prose Poems collects twenty-two works of wide-ranging style and character from the Nobel Prize–winner Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, whose shorter pieces showcase the extraordinary mastery of language that places him among the greatest Russian prose writers of the twentieth century. When the two superb stories "Matryona's House" and "An Incident at Krechetovka Station" were first published in Russia in 1963, the Moscow Literary Gazette, the mouthpiece of the Soviet literary establishment, wrote: "His talent is so individual and so striking that from now on nothing that comes from his pen can fail to excite the liveliest interest." The novella For the Good of the Cause and the short story "Zakhar-the-Pouch" in particular—both published in the Soviet Union before Solzhenitsyn's exile—fearlessly address the deadening stranglehold of Soviet bureaucracy and the scandalous neglect of Russia's cultural heritage. But readers who best know Solzhenitsyn through his novels will be delighted to discover the astonishing group of sixteen "prose poems." In these works of varying lengths—some as short as an aphorism—Solzhenitsyn distills the joy and bitterness of Russia's fate into language of unrivaled lyrical purity.

Between 1855 and his death in 1867, Charles Baudelaire inaugurated a new—and in his own words "dangerous"—hybrid form in a series of prose poems known as Paris Spleen. Important and provocative, these fifty poems take the reader on a tour of 1850s Paris, through gleaming cafes and filthy side streets, revealing a metropolis on the eve of great change. In its deliberate fragmentation and merging of the lyrical with the sardonic, Le Spleen de Paris may be regarded as one of the earliest and most successful examples of a specifically urban writing, the textual equivalent of the city scenes of the Impressionists. In this compelling new translation, Keith Waldrop delivers the companion to his innovative translation of The Flowers of Evil. Here, Waldrop's perfectly modulated mix releases the music, intensity, and dissonance in Baudelaire's prose. The result is a powerful new re-imagining that is closer to Baudelaire's own poetry than any previous English translation.

Baudelaire's Prose Poems is the first full-length, integral study of the fifty prose poems Baudelaire wrote between 1857 and his death in 1867, collected posthumously under the title Le Spleen de Paris. Edward Kaplan resurrects this neglected masterpiece by defining the structure and meaning of the entire collection, which Kaplan himself has translated as The Parisian Prowler. Engaging in a dialogue with deconstructionists whose critical methods often obscure the meaning of the whole, Kaplan rejects the view of prose poems as a random assemblage of melodic rhapsodies. Instead, he sees a coherent ensemble of "fables of modern life" that join lyricism and critical self-awareness. Kaplan defines three dimensions of experience that inform The Parisian Prowler from beginning to end: the esthetic includes art, ideal beauty, and especially the intense immediacy of sensations, fantasy, and dream; the ethical includes principles of right and wrong, relations between intimates or between individuals and the community; and the religious--not to be confused with church or dogma--points to the province of ultimate reality, whether it be God or an absolute standard of truth, justice, and meaning. These dimensions are explored by a narrator, a complex, highly self-conscious writer whose passion for pure Beauty continually frustrates his yearning for affection. He begins his tour through 1850s Paris alienated from reality, becomes aggravated by conflicts between his "ethical" and "esthetic" drives--to the point of despair--and ends by expressing loyal friendship. Analyzing the fables in relation to one another in pairs or groups, Kaplan demonstrates how later pieces intermingle or even confuse the narrator's esthetic and ethical drives, and how the most advanced "theoretical fables"--through ironic puns on their form--further undermine this simplistic dualism. Baudelaire's fables of modern life radically challenge us to examine our presuppositions, Kaplan argues. Though rarely didactic, the narrator's Socratic irony engages readers in a volatile dialogue, provoking them to form their own judgments. He often betrays self-destructive anger, rebelling against injustice or stupidity--or against women who might love him. At times he insults our complacency and self-deception with vicious glee; at other times, he recognizes his own frailty, nurturing a sense of fellowship with the oppressed. Seeking both to analyze experience objectively and to sympathize with isolated individuals like himself, Baudelaire's narrator joins criticism and poetry in a voyage of self-discovery, finally accepting experience as impure and mixed. Kaplan contends that the "prose poems" constitute a genre parallel to the poems Baudelaire added to the 1861 edition of Les Fleurs du Mal, both of which illustrate fundamental principles of the theory of modernity he developed in his essays on art. The self-reflective fables in The Parisian ProwlerM/i>--depicting a way of thinking beyond ideologies--clarify Baudelaire's development as poet, critic, and thinker.

Poetry. Literary Criticism. A wide-ranging gathering of 34 brief essays and 66 prose poems by distinguished practitioners, THE ROSE METAL PRESS FIELD GUIDE TO PROSE POETRY is as personal and provocative, accessible and idiosyncratic as the genre itself. The essayists discuss their craft, influences, and experiences, all while pondering larger questions: What is prose poetry? Why write prose poems? With its pioneering introduction, this collection provides a history of the development of the prose poem up to its current widespread appeal. Half critical study and half anthology, THE FIELD GUIDE TO PROSE POETRY is a not-to-be-missed companion for readers and writers of poetry, as well as students and teachers of creative writing.

Short, sharp musings on things profound and mundane (and sometimes both) from the Pulitzer Prize winning poet C. K. Williams has never been afraid to push the boundaries of poetic form—in fact, he's known for it, with long, lyrical lines that compel, enthrall, and ensnare. In his latest work, All at Once, Williams again embodies this spirit of experimentation, carving out fresh spaces for himself and surprising his readers once more with inventions both formal and lyrical. Somewhere between prose poems, short stories, and personal essays, the musings in this collection are profound, personal, witty, and inventive—sometimes all at once. Here are the starkly beautiful images that also pepper his poems: a neighbor's white butane tank in March "glares in the sunlight, raw and unseemly, like a breast inappropriately unclothed in the painful chill." Here are the tender, masterful sketches of characters Williams has encountered: a sign painter and skid-row denizen who makes an impression on the young soon-to-be poet with his "terrific focus, an intensity I'd never seen in an adult before." And here are a husband's hymns to his beloved wife, to her laughter, which "always has something keen and sweet to it, an edge of something like song." This is a book that provokes pathos and thought, that inspires sympathy and contemplation. It is both fiercely representative of Williams's work and like nothing he's written before—a collection to be admired, celebrated, and above all read again and again.