Praise for The Book of Light
"One of the most celebrated and beloved voices in poetry, Clifton brings to vivid life the intersections of the sacred and the secular ('between starshine and clay') and the everyday and the extraordinary with her trademark simplicity and precision. . . . This essential edition is an excellent reminder of the poet’s inimitable gifts."—Publishers Weekly, STARRED REVIEW
"Lucille Clifton is one of the most beloved poets of the 20th century, and this gorgeous new anniversary edition of her 1992 collection The Book of Light comes with an introduction by Ross Gay and an afterward by her daughter Sidney Clifton. Gay’s introduction is ebullient and joyful, perfectly framing Clifton’s poems of struggle, celebration, Black womanhood, small everyday joys, and overwhelming grief. Her words are as powerful today as they were 30 years ago."—Book Riot
"The Book of Light showed us, her daughters, and now you, the reader, the power of navigating our innermost doubts and fears out loud, naked with bravery and boldness. Lucille Clifton’s vulnerability is her power.'" —Real Change
Praise for Lucille Clifton
“[Lucille Clifton] is a passionate, mercurial writer, by turns angry, prophetic, compassionate, shrewd, sensuous, vulnerable, and funny.”—The New York Times Book Review
“Clifton’s poems are witty, conversational, and self-reflexive.”—Dean Rader, Los Angeles Review of Books
“Clifton’s poems are profound and powerful to behold.”—Publishers Weekly
“If you like poetry, a poem by Lucille Clifton will eventually track you down. It will stand behind you tapping its foot until you turn around. Twice your height, the poem will fold its arms across its chest and tell you to wipe that silly look off your face and listen up. You will listen up....When you look at the poem, really look at it, you realize that here is a poem that will run into a burning building for you, throw you over its shoulder, and walk you out into cool air.”—City Paper
“The work of a minimalist artist like Clifton makes empty space resonate....Clifton...defines herself without raising her voice.”—American Poetry Review
