Robin Robertson

Robin Robertson's fourth collection is, if anything, an even more intense, moving, bleakly lyrical, and at times shocking book than Swithering, winner of the Forward Prize. These poems are written with the authority of classical myth, yet sound utterly contemporary: the poet's gaze -- whether on the natural world or the details of his own life -- is unflinching and clear, its utter seriousness leavened by a wry, dry and disarming humour. Alongside fine translations from Neruda and Montale and dynamic (and at times horrific) retellings of stories from Ovid, the poems in The Wrecking Light pitch the power and wonder of nature against the frailty and failure of the human. Ghosts sift through these poems -- certainties become volatile, the simplest situations thicken with strangeness and threat -- all of them haunted by the pressure and presence of the primitive world against our own, and the kind of dream-like intensity of description that has become Robertson's trademark. This is a book of considerable grandeur and sweep which confirms Robertson as one of the most arresting and powerful poets at work today. 'Robin Robertson continues to explore the bleak, beautiful territory that he has made his own. His stripped-bare lyricism, haunted by echoes of folksong, is as unforgiving as the weather and poems such as 'At Roane Head' show him writing at the height of his considerable powers' The Times

To swither means to suffer indecision or doubt, but there is no faltering in these poems; any uncertainty is not in the lines or the sounds or the images, but only in the themes of flux and change and transformation that thread their way through this powerful third collection. Robin Robertson has written a book of remarkable cohesion and range that calls on his knowledge of folklore and myth to fuse the old ways with the new. From raw, exposed poems about the end of childhood to erotically charged lyrics about the end of desire, from a brilliant retelling of the metamorphosis and death of Actaeon to the final freeing of the waters in Holding Proteus, these are close examinations of nature--of the bright epiphanies of passion and loss. At times sombre, at times exultant, Robertson's poems are always firmly rooted in the world we see, the life we experience: original, precise, and startlingly clear.

WINNER OF THE 2006 FORWARD PRIZE In Scots, the verb 'swither' has two meanings: to be doubtful, to waver, to be in two minds; and to appear in shifting forms - indeterminate and volatile. From disarmingly direct poems about the end of childhood to erotically charged lyrics about the ends of desire, Robertson's powerful third collection is stalked and haunted by both senses. Hard-edged, pitch-perfect, effortlessly various, Swithering is a book of brave and black romance, locating its voice in that space where great change is an ever-present possibility. Swithering has just won the Forward Prize for Best Collection and is also shortlisted for this year’s T. S. Eliot Prize.

Humiliation is not, of course, unique to writers. However, the world of letters does seem to offer a near-perfect micro-climate for embarrassment and shame. There is something about the conjunction of high-mindedness and low income that is inherently comic; something about the very idea of deeply private thoughts -- carefully worked and honed into art over the years -- being presented to a public audience of dubious strangers, that strays perilously close to tragedy. These seventy contributions prove it is possible to reverse Auden's dictum: that art is born out of humiliation.

This prize-winning first collection introduced one of the most powerful and original new voices to come out of Scotland. In language both dense and resonant, grave and lyrical, these poems are concerned, in the end, with the fugitive nature of things: the implacable coupling of desire and sadness, beauty and loss. ‘A superb debut . . . darkly chiselled poems haunted by mortality and the fragility of life’s pleasures’ Kazuo Ishiguro, Sunday Times, Books of the Year

For the millions of home cooks who swear by the ease and convenience of the slow cooker, this book provides a new array of healthy, delicious recipes. And for the millions of vegetarians looking for simple, hearty fare, this book introduces them to the magic of slow cooking. The book proves that slow cookers can be used for much more than just tough, inexpensive cuts of meat. They are perfect for vegetarian and healthy cooking because slow cooking is a foolproof way to make beans, grains, root vegetables, in preparations such as Spicy White Bean and Sweet potato Stew with Collards, Balsamic-Glazed Carrots and Parsnips, and Boston Brown Bread. Stuffed vegetables such as Bell Peppers Stuffed with Couscous and Lentils, are moist and tender, with none of the oven's dryness. Even desserts such as Chocolate Fancy Fondue and Brandy-Laced Pear Brown Betty, are sensational.

A Painted Field – Robin Robertson’s first collection – was published in 1997 to unanimous acclaim. In language both sensuous and coolly forthright, the poems in Slow Air describe the arc of loss, the search for grace, and the radiances and shadows of the natural world – the work pitching its embattled romanticism, its lyric weight, against fear, grief and erasure. Praise for A Painted Field ‘A superb debut . . . darkly chiselled poems haunted by mortality and the fragility of life’s pleasures’ Kazuo Ishiguro, Sunday Times Books of the Year ‘The best new poet in Britain is Robin Robertson’ Andrew O’Hagan, Independent on Sunday Books of the Year ‘A poetic voice of quiet yet charged maturity: lyrical and complex, transparent and gravid, it can treat both the public theme and the intensely personal with the same serenely wrought fire’ William Boyd, Scotsman Books of the Year ‘Robin Robertson is a master of the poetic line; this is wonderful work, at once muscular and delicate, ringing with a plangent, bitter music. A marvellous debut’ John Banville

Carl Jung coined the term "synchronicity" to describe meaningful coincidences that conventional notions of time and causality cannot explain. Working with the great quantum physicist Wolfgang Pauli, Jung sought to reveal these coincidences as phenomena that involve mind and matter, science and spirit, thus providing rational explanations for parapsychological events like telepathy, precognition, and intuition. Synchronicity examines the work of Jung and Pauli, as well as noted scientists Werner Heisenberg and David Bohm identifies the phenomena in ancient and modern mythologies, particularly the Greek legend of Hermes the Trickster and illustrates it with engaging anecdotes from everyday life and literature.

In these forty-two poems, Robin Robertson demonstrates an astonishing range of style and concerns, in a voice that is utterly original. Whether he is rendering a dramatic new version of Ovid ("The Flaying of Marsyas") or celebrating the ambiguous pleasures of food ("Artichoke"), Robertson's poetry is always lucid, sensuous, and compelling. These are poems that speak of the wounds of memory, the implacable coupling of desire and loss, the fugitive nature of things. Elegant and profound, A Painted Field has proved a stunning debut.