Join us Tuesday, November 9, at 8:00 p.m. CST to hear Richard read from his new magical book, which sings of the daily joys and transcendent sorrows.
Praise:
There are so many pleasures to be found in The Minor Key, and as much celebration here as lament. Sure, Jones like Keats gluts his sorrows—in the tender manner he dresses his mother who suffers from dementia or invites the Buddha in for tea and discussion of the first noble truth, and his acknowledgement of the gift of becoming invisible in old age. By turns retrospective, imaginative, and formal, Jones unfolds these new poems with his characteristic, cheerful directness and urgency. We often don’t know where he’s leading us nor toward what revelation, but we hold on to these poems as we do to our lives and to each other, “happy, / if happy is the word for the way this feels.”
—David Axelrod
Invoking the melancholic nature of the minor key, this fine book is acutely aware that melancholy’s great practitioners, like John Keats and Robert Burton, also celebrate life. Richard Jones’ poems remind us that it is our duty to remain “shining as best we know how, brightly together.” Not afraid to ask the difficult questions—What should I have done with my life? How does one get on with living?—Jones is equally committed to seeing “the sunlit summer sumacs sparkling,” to finding answers to life’s large questions. Here are poems that console without sentimentality and see clearly without falling into easy, unheroic despair.
—Michael Blumenthal
Richard Jones gives us melancholy music in The Minor Key, but a music so suffused with tenderness that all suffering trembles into love and light. These poems arise from “blue notebooks,” travel the world, and return to rooms lit by candles or to a backyard full of roses, visited by fox and deer, where two people sip perfect martinis as evening falls.
—Kathleen Kirk