Upstream Paperback – 1 October 2019

I thoroughly enjoyed the book. It felt like bathing in a beautiful lily pond. Does it take great effort or is it a natural gift, I wonder. I am so glad I found Mary Oliver’s writing, which at present I enjoy more than her poetry, although that may change as my appreciation for poetry develops.

“Upstream by Mary Oliver” is such an inspiring read. It’s a collection of essays by Mary Oliver the renown poet who leads her readers upstream and emphasises on the details of nature. She also shares about her friend Walt Whitman and the authors who have played a significant part in her world of literature. This could be my shortest review but yet I’m glad I chose to read this book.My rating : 4/5 🌟Leaving you with a few lines from this book:“𝘜𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺. 𝘉𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴, 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 - 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘏𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘧-𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘝𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘴.”

This is amazing, this is a real copy from Penguin publisher and this is first time I felt through online purchase I am receiving original copy, this is so good.

Book was in perfect condition when delivered.

Put everything aside and read it, slowly, like you sip on a fragrant, reinvigorating, restoring cup of tea :)

As someone who enjoys Mary Oliver's poetry, this book felt right up my alley. A collection of essays that value a connection with nature, paying attention to the minute, and stripping away the grandiose sense with which us humans walk this planet. You can tell by her essays that she's a poet. Even in the way she structures her sentences, there is a sparseness to it. I called upon that voice in my head to read the essays and I could feel the handiwork of a poet at play.That said, it was a book of two halves. When it was good, such as the two essays - Swoon - where she talks of staying at a rented house and observing a spider catching a cricket, and Bird- where she describes her nursing of an injured gull, it was so wonderful to read that it made up for all the eccentric and somewhat boring lulls in the middle. The entire section where she muses over and critiques her favourite authors was, in my opinion, unnecessary.But then you come across a paragraph like this -“Sometimes the desire to be lost again, as long ago, comes over me like a vapor. With growth into adulthood, responsibilities claimed me, so many heavy coats. I didn’t choose them, I don’t fault them, but it took time to reject them. Now in the spring I kneel, I put my face into the packets of violets, the dampness, the freshness, the sense of ever-ness. Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity. May I be the tiniest nail in the house of the universe, tiny but useful.” - and feel that all you need to do is shut up and listen to Mary share her wisdom. You might not get it but allowing yourself to listen to her is the very least that you can do.After all, in Mary's words, “Attention is the beginning of devotion.”

What's better than reading about poetry and nature from a down to earth narrator whose life was filled with beauty.