Ashes for Breakfast: Selected Poems

A collection of poetry—particularly a selected or a collected—rarely has the narrative drive of fiction. There's no reason that it should. It's a different animal, after all. Every so often, though, one comes across a book of poetry that does pull one along just as joyfully, just as relentlessly, as does a well-told story. Durs Grünbein's Ashes for Breakfast is one of those, perhaps in part thanks to Grünbein's gift for a consistently conversational tone infused with worldly cynicism, humor, and learning lightly-worn. All of this is certainly on display in his ode to the city of my birth (can you guess what city it is?): "To be truly happy here, you need a dentist. 'Such a dazzling smile . . .' / Because happiness is the first duty of every citizen. / Whoever is happy, is unstoppable. Nothing so cheers the loser / as the successful sparklers." He can also be heartbreaking, though, as in an ode to the city of his birth, Dresden: "Nothing veiled anymore, history, / the hot, dusty wind that eradicates, / and I care. And in the name of what happened there / one gives up the Vermeer (burned) / and the Bach (disappeared). / Was it worth it? That whole cities, / from which the death transports rolled / became wastelands on Lethe's banks." That there is no easy answer to this question augments the poem's simple power. I can't judge the fidelity of Michael Hofmann's translations, but the versions he has given of Grünbein's work certainly read well. His introduction, too, is a lively reflection on the translator's art. Don't skip it.