From Library Journal
Hoagland's second book (after Sweet Ruin, Univ. of Wisconsin, 1992) is nothing if not imaginative. Invigorated by "fine distress," these graceful, perceptive poems gaze without blinking at what we hide from each other and ourselves when "head and heart/ are in different time zones." Concerned by broken bonds of love and "climaxes of suffering" in a "dying, burning world," he's also angry, at times startlingly, at "dividedness" of identity, which makes it impossible to remain connected in a "hated prison" of selfhood. With refreshing candor (one poem defends D.H. Lawrence, "who opened up the world"), Hoagland reveals what happens when giving and "tenderness" are blocked by a "mass of delusions" and "strange appetites." Acceptance of "joy and suffering made one at last" transforms what appear to be extravagant elegies into genuine empathy for "all our yearnings, all our fears." This award-winning collection illuminates conflicts between individual desire for self-actualization and the "dark and soaring fact" of experience. To be alive, for Hoagland, "hurts exquisitely." For larger poetry collections.AFrank Allen, Northhampton Community Coll., Tannersville, PACopyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From Kirkus Reviews
Winner of a new award in James Laughlins honor, this second book by the New Mexico State writing professor is an uncomplicated series of autobiographical poems about being a guy, from backslapping tales of sexual exploits to the dark and dirty truths of male animalism. Despite the poets feminist anxieties, hes proud of belonging to the tribe of predators and celebrates his first steps towards manliness in poems such as Dickhead and Muy Macho, in which deep-voiced woman- fuckers scratch themselves and worry about their penis size. In Adam and Eve, he confronts his violent tendencieshis desire to slug a woman in the face for denying him sexand elsewhere deals with his homophobia by sleeping with a man (Lie Down with a Man) and going to a lesbian bar (Mistaken Identity). Apologetic for being cerebral, Hoagland pays homage to Auden and D.H. Lawrence in poems that recognize ones powerful vocabulary and the others ability to fight, and fuck, and crow in prose. Hoaglands dumb optimism carries some of his poems beyond their sloppy diction and countercultural correctness. -- Copyright ©1998, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.


Review
"An absolutely refreshing compound of playfulness and depth . . . There's no warmed-over theory on this menu, and no guilt casserole, either: [Donkey Gospel is] an unabashedly spicy book. But if one is seduced into the book by the wildness of its flavors, one finishes by loving its substance."—Heather McHugh

"There's an underlying sweetness to the poems, and a gratitude for having survived so much human fecklessness (including, of course, one's own), and these complicate the poems' anger and puzzlement and rumple their severe surfaces. The resulting mixture has much of the complexity of a personality that willingly weathers its own perplexities and experiences, rather than striking a pose of competence and trying to ride out the storm."—William Matthews

"If the current flush of identity politics has you bored beyond belief, you might look for a deeper and truer sense of identity and belief in Donkey Gospel. It's a powerful second book, and leaves one wanting more."—Harvard Review

"In Donkey Gospel, Hoagland's puzzlement is palpable, and yet his effervescent cleverness and original twists of phrase, sometimes aphoristic in philosophical content, ring true. His poetry of cultural irony, contemporary sexuality, and the absurdities of the rock-and-roll generation leave us with a satisfied feeling of having ridden out a storm."—Ruminator Review

"[A] series of autobiographical poems about being a guy, from backslapping tales of sexual exploits to the dark and dirty truths of male animalism . . . Apologetic for being cerebral, Hoagland pays homage to Auden and D. H. Lawrence in poems that recognize one's powerful vocabulary and the other's ability to fight, and fuck, and crow in prose."—Kirkus Reviews



Review
"An absolutely refreshing compound of playfulness and depth . . . There's no warmed-over theory on this menu, and no guilt casserole, either: [Donkey Gospel is] an unabashedly spicy book. But if one is seduced into the book by the wildness of its flavors, one finishes by loving its substance."—Heather McHugh

"There's an underlying sweetness to the poems, and a gratitude for having survived so much human fecklessness (including, of course, one's own), and these complicate the poems' anger and puzzlement and rumple their severe surfaces. The resulting mixture has much of the complexity of a personality that willingly weathers its own perplexities and experiences, rather than striking a pose of competence and trying to ride out the storm."—William Matthews

"If the current flush of identity politics has you bored beyond belief, you might look for a deeper and truer sense of identity and belief in Donkey Gospel. It's a powerful second book, and leaves one wanting more."—Harvard Review

"In Donkey Gospel, Hoagland's puzzlement is palpable, and yet his effervescent cleverness and original twists of phrase, sometimes aphoristic in philosophical content, ring true. His poetry of cultural irony, contemporary sexuality, and the absurdities of the rock-and-roll generation leave us with a satisfied feeling of having ridden out a storm."—Ruminator Review

"[A] series of autobiographical poems about being a guy, from backslapping tales of sexual exploits to the dark and dirty truths of male animalism . . . Apologetic for being cerebral, Hoagland pays homage to Auden and D. H. Lawrence in poems that recognize one's powerful vocabulary and the other's ability to fight, and fuck, and crow in prose."—Kirkus Reviews



Book Description
Winner of the 1997 James Laughlin Award of The Academy of American Poets

In his second collection of poems, Hoagland's generous effervescence and a jujitsu cleverness sparkle through line after line confronting negotiation and compromise, gender and culture, sex and rock music, sons and lovers, truth and beauty, and so forth. From the boy who speaks only in "Kung Fu" dialogue to the guy who visits a lesbian bar and sees his mother, this often funny and always thoughtful book of poems offers fresh, surprisingly frank meditations on the credentials for contemporary manhood.



From the Publisher
Donkey Gospel is the winner of the 1997 James Laughlin Award of The Academy of American Poets.


About the Author
Tony Hoagland's first book, Sweet Ruin, was awarded the Brittingham Prize in Poetry and the Zacharis Award from Ploughshares at Emerson College. A member of the writing faculty at the University of Pittsburg, Hoagland has also received grants from the NEA and the Guggenheim Foundation.



Excerpted from Donkey Gospel : Poems by Tony Hoagland and Tony Hoaagland. Copyright © 1998. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved
"Benevolence" When my father dies and comes back as a dog, I already know what his favorite sound will be: the soft, almost inaudible gasp as the rubber lips of the refrigerator door unstick, followed by that arctic exhalation of cold air; then the cracking of the ice-cube tray above the sink and the quiet ching the cubes make when dropped into a glass. Unable to pronounce the name of his favorite drink, or to express his preference for single malt, he will utter one sharp bark and point the wet black arrow of his nose imperatively up at the bottle on the shelf, then seat himself before me, trembling, expectant, water pouring down the long pink dangle of his tongue as the memory of pleasure from his former life shakes him like a tail. What I'll remember as I tower over him, holding a dripping, whiskey-flavored cube above his open mouth,/ relishing the power rushing through my veins the way it rushed through his, what I'll remember as I stand there is the hundred clever tricks I taught myself to please him, and for how long I mistakenly believed that it was love he held concealed in his closed hand.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

Tony Hoagland's effervescence and a jujitsu cleverness sparkle through poems about negotiation and compromise, gender and culture, sex and rock and roll. From the boy who speaks only in "Kung Fu" dialogue to a man visiting a lesbian bar, Hoagland gives a sense of finally being able to tell the truth about the credentials for contemporary manhood.

FROM THE CRITICS

Book Magazine

...[I]f you haven't read too much contemporary confessional verse, this is a good place to start.

Library Journal