Louise Glück's death was reported in the New York Times today. I am one for coincidences, I marvel at them. Here's one: just last evening I finished reading her last book of poems, Winter Recipes from the Collective, a very thin volume of 15 poems in 43 pages. It's a classically tough read (I don't know where her reviewers get the idea that her work is accessible - maybe they spend a lot of time reading truly opaque verse), and I was happy not to have to slog through more of it than was there.
Anyway, good-bye to our generation's Nobel Laureate.
