Originally published by Black Sparrow Press and now saved from obscurity, this sonorous autobiography from painter and poet Oppen chronicles the lives of two literary soul mates. Although George won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1969, Mary’s memoir is by no means in his shadow; their love and intellectual union is rhapsodically mutual and an inspiring achievement to behold. The author divined meaning and guidance from the literary lives around her and channeled those forces into a passionate memoir that will continue to resound with readers even decades after its publication.—Kirkus Reviews
Mary Oppen (1908–1990) was a writer, painter, activist, and the lifelong partner of the poet George Oppen. Besides her autobiography, she published two collections of poetry, Poems & Transpositions and the chapbook Mother and Daughter and the Sea.
With a contribution by Jeffrey Yang
Now, when we are more atomized than ever — by partisanship and political lies, by contagion and its economic fallout — reading Mary’s autobiography reminds us that life is important, but that living is a means to an end, not an end in itself. The end is, as she tells us from the start, meaning.—Los Angeles Review of Books
Originally published by Black Sparrow Press and now saved from obscurity, this sonorous autobiography from painter and poet Oppen chronicles the lives of two literary soul mates. Although George won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1969, Mary’s memoir is by no means in his shadow; their love and intellectual union is rhapsodically mutual and an inspiring achievement to behold. The author divined meaning and guidance from the literary lives around her and channeled those forces into a passionate memoir that will continue to resound with readers even decades after its publication.—Kirkus Reviews
Mary’s narrative style illuminates its aesthetic dimension. Her descriptions are unrelentingly clear and honest. Meaning a Life is a reminder that sympathy is not nothing, but sympathy, when it leads to action, is something more, and greater.—Miranda Popkey, The New Yorker
