Reseña del libro "Iris Barry - Impressions & Studies (en Inglés)"
Iris Barry - Impressions & Studies Public Domain Poets #8 Publicdomainpoets.com Containing almost all of Iris Barry's published poetry from the 1910s and 20s, never before anthologised. New edition designed, edited, and selected by Dick Whyte. At night my mother sits uncorseted And with tired gestures combs her long hair. Her head shines in the gaslight, And she yawns, dropping many hair-pins As she goes upstairs. Iris Barry (1895-1969) was born in Birmingham, England, and studied at the Ursulines convent in Belgium. Barry began writing and publishing poetry as early as 1914, already in the 'free verse' style. Ezra Pound read her work in Poetry in 1916, and offered to publish some of her poems, and in 1917 she moved to London to study with Pound. Once there Barry attended Imagist gatherings - attended by H.D., Richard Aldington, T.S. Elliot (et al.) - and regularly published poetry between 1916 and 1924. At night Neither joy, ambition, love nor want In my heart. But the leaves called And the earth called, And there was only waiting Against the coming of rain, And the whipping of hair About my head. Barry also wrote a novel, Splashing into Society, in 1923; and wrote film criticism for The Spectator and The Daily Mail, around the same time. After 1925 Barry stopped writing poetry, and focussed solely on film criticism. She would go on to co-found the Film Society of London with Ivor Montagu in 1925, and write one of the early classics of English-language film theory, Let's Go To The Movies, in 1926; becoming one of the most widely read film critics of the 1920s. Barry moved to America in 1930, and founded the film department at the newly opened Museum of Modern Art in New York, and worked as a book reviewer for the New York Times. Through the day, meekly, I am my mother's child. Through the night riotously I ride great horses . . . Public Domain Press is dedicated to producing contemporary editions of out-of-print poets and poetry collections, particularly with regard to compressed and fragmented 'free verse' from the late-1800s and early-1900s. All poems start as facsimiles - to preserve the original fonts - which are then cleaned up, edited for consistency, and spaciously laid-out, adorned with borders, illustrations, and ornaments from the books and magazines they originally appeared in. These are not "reprints" of previously existing books, but newly crafted collection, lovingly edited from public domain material, for the serious poetry lover.
