C.D. Wright, as I said the other say in a tweet and yesterday in a blog post, is a touchstone for me. Her death is a blow to the poetry world. Craig Morgan Teicher, in an essay at NPR, offers what may be the most succinct public eulogy of Wright I’ve seen:
One of the quirks of literary criticism is the convention of referring, always, to the writing in the present tense, even if the writer must be referred to in the past. C.D. Wright, who is survived by her husband, the poet, novelist, and translator Forrest Gander, and their son, should have had many more books ahead of her; I grieve the loss of those books, too. But I’m grateful that I get to continue to refer to her work in the present; it will last. Wright left us not only a record of what she saw, but of her way of seeing, her slant, from which Truths will always be visible.