Elizabeth Macklin (born 1952 in Poughkeepsie, New York) is an American poet.

Elizabeth Macklin
Born1952 (age 71–72)
Poughkeepsie, New York, U.S.
OccupationPoet
Alma materState University of New York at Potsdam
Complutense University of Madrid
Website
www.elizabethmacklin.net

Life

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She read Spanish literature at SUNY Potsdam, and Complutense University of Madrid. In 1974 to 1999, worked at The New Yorker, living in New York City.

She spent a year in Bilbao, Spain, until February 2000.[1]

She works as a translator with The Basque Literature Series.[2] Her work has appeared in The Nation, New England Review, The New Republic, The New Yorker,[3] The New York Times, Paris Review,[4] The Threepenny Review,[5] and The Yale Review.[6]

Awards

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Works

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  • "Wise". The New Yorker. June 4, 2007.
  • Kirmen Uribe. "Danger; Notes on a Loose Piece of Paper; Visit". Graywolf Press. Elizabeth Macklin (trans.). Archived from the original on 2008-05-17.

Poetry Books

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Anthologies

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  • Melissa Tuckey, ed. (2018). Ghost Fishing: An Eco-Justice Poetry Anthology. University of Georgia Press. ISBN 978-0820353159.
  • Elizabeth Schmidt, ed. (2002). Poems of New York. Knopf. ISBN 978-0-375-41504-3. {{cite book}}: |work= ignored (help)
  • The Penguin Book of the Sonnet, ed. Phillis Levin (Penguin Books, 2001)
  • The KGB Bar Book of Poems, ed. David Lehman & Star Black (HarperCollins; 2000)
  • Bascove, ed. (1998). Stone and Steel. Godine. ISBN 978-1-56792-081-9.
  • Prayers at 3 A.M., ed. Phil Cousineau (Harper San Francisco; 1995)
  • Best American Poetry 1993, ed. Louise Glück and David Lehman (Scribners).
  • Mark Strand, David Lehman, ed. (1991). Best American Poetry 1991. Scribners. ISBN 978-0-684-19311-3.[9]

Essays

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Criticism

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Translations

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Reviews

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In May 2000, The New York Times' Deborah Weisgall noted:[10]

Around her poetry Elizabeth Macklin uses grammar as a scaffolding of detachment. She builds precarious platforms that enable her to see her past and her family and to sort through the chaotic pain of memory: to examine the deceptive facets of truth. These poems parse life's sentences. Tension arises from how Macklin tests grammar's ability, both as metaphor and as the raw material of language, to enclose her oblique and urgent questions. Sometimes her grammar is playfully inflected -- she watches, in an altered state, a wisp of smoke rise, "high, highest, higher" -- sometimes dead serious.

References

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