or two scenes, the remembered and the present moment. Are we seeing through memory, or does memory dwell side by side with present perception ? Which is more “true,” if such a word has any place in discussions of lyric perception? These questions lead us into deep water, though Longley ’s lyrics have a readily accessible beauty that merges with, but is never obscured by, their subterranean questioning . A Hundred Doors does not lead us into new territory, but the familiar ground of Longley’s beloved Carrigskeewaun is seen in a newly prismatic perspective. The poet is confronted by his memories and with a future that holds “my final resting place,” and this sense of an ending —one’s own ending—is accepted with the equanimity of one who feels truly at home. Longley’s verse invites us to read autobiographically; he is the same age as when his compatriot Seamus Heaney contemplated beginnings and endings, and when W. B. Yeats composed “Under Ben Bulben,” yet Longley’s tone could not be farther from the patrician coldness of Yeats’s self-composed epitaph. Longley ’s poems are marked by a hospitable , magnanimous tone and a sense of fluidity that, at times, almost seems to escape the confines of personal identity altogether. Magdalena Kay University of Victoria Harry Martinson. Chickweed Wintergreen . Robin Fulton, tr. Tarset, North Umberland, UK. Bloodaxe Books (Dufour, distr.). 2011 (©2010). isbn 9781852248871 Swedish author Harry Martinson, who won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1974, left behind a large and distinguished body of work when he died in 1978. Sadly, little of his poetry made it across into English, either in his lifetime or after, making him undoubtedly one of the least-known European Nobel laureates. Chickweed Wintergreen , newly selected and translated by Robin Fulton, is by far the largest single collection of Martinson’s poems we’ve seen so far. Fulton selects generously from the poet’s entire output, from the early collection Spökskepp (Ghost ships, 1929) to Martinson’s final book, Tuvor (Tussocks, 1973), and includes an important section of posthumously published poems. Fulton is well known as the translator of Tomas Tranströmer. His feeling for the cadences of Martinson’s Swedish shows the sensitivity and inventive range we’ve come to expect and rightly admire. His translations are models of balance and tone. It’s typical of Fulton, and his pairing with the publisher Bloodaxe, that details grow into a sum of tremendous intimacy : the inclusion of several poems in their original Swedish and the use of Martinson’s evocative, entrancing line drawings bring the book alive, as an object of craft and beauty. At sixteen, Martinson turned his back on Sweden, home of his childhood misery, and spent the next seven years sailing the world’s seas as a merchant marine. It was an experience , an education that taught him the essentials of his art, how to watch and listen and how, in the course of his subsequent life as a poet, to divine the vast stillness at the silent heart of all things. Martinson’s return to rural Sweden is mirrored and replayed over and again in the microvision of his most successful early poems. Landscape roots him, and it was in the minutely, intensely observed nature poems of Nomad (1931) that Martinson came into his own as a recognizably unique presence on the Swedish literary scene. What Martinson’s poems strive for above all is a kind of reckoning of the overlooked, the unobserved; to count and credit the everyday experience of nature, lest it too be abandoned . Staffan Söderblom hits the mark in his introduction when he says for Martinson, “the mystery, or the enigma, reveals itself everywhere in creation, and with its fine awareness and sensitivity his poetry can at times resemble a membrane for this mystery.” The evocative, meditative poem “The Quagmire” was one of Martinson ’s last, taken from his final book, Tuvor: “Late-born swarms of flying creatures / set out beneath trees now leafless. / They pause in sheltered places / and are seen dancing up and 72 | World Literature Today wltreviews Manoj Kumar Panda The Bone Garden and Other Stories Rupantar: A Centre for English...