Youmans (pronounced like 'yeoman' with an 's' added) is the best-kept secret
among contemporary American writers. --John Wilson, editor, Books and Culture Marly Youmans is a novelist and poet out of sync with the times
but in tune with the ages. --First Things

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Amusing my muse--

Clive Hicks-Jenkins, interior art for Thaliad
Update: Oops! Full Inverarity review is here. Thanks to Beth for alerting me on facebook. Also, thanks to painter and poet Mary Boxley Bullington for adding a Thaliad reader review to the wonderful reviews at Amazon.

* * *

I was pleased to learn of Inverarity's just-up review of Thaliad. Not because it's a shiny, stellar review--which it is--but because Inverarity made me laugh with pleasure at my choices and my muse!

I won't quote from the part that made me laugh, as it's more fun to read in context. But here is the conclusion, also amusing:
Verdict: I loved this. Who the hell writes a post-apocalyptic YA novella in blank verse? Obviously, someone inspired by a non-commercial muse. Thaliad is beautiful and touching and deserves a wider audience. Highly recommended!
But the whole thing is smart and funny and a useful read if you're considering whether to snare a Thaliad of your very own.
This is a brilliant and imaginative work. It's a writer stretching and doing something creative and different. And Youmans is poet enough to pull it off beautifully.
Like Midori Snyder's review, it looks at the book through a YA lens. I didn't intend the book for a YA audience alone, but if it finds both young people and grown-up readers of poetry, so much the better.


  1. So glad that twitterians and facebookians tell you (endlessly, sometimes!) when you make a goof...

  2. Thank you, Mr. Jones! Need to go by and see what's up with you and your muse... After I get child no. 3 on the bus... Though I think we're about to miss, alas!


Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.