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Obituaries

Elaine Feinstein

November 18, 2019 13:06
Feinstein, Elaine on Mount Parnassus

ByGloria Tessler, gloria tessler

3 min read

The clock’s gone back. The shop lights spill /over the wet street, these broken streaks/ of traffic signals and white head-lights fill/ the afternoon. My thoughts are bleak .

In this poem, Winter, Elaine Feinstein, who has died aged 88, remembers her late husband by recalling such personal idiosynrasies as -You never did learn to talk and find the way/ at the same time. It was a marriage she once described as bumpy, but always affectionate. In an early poem, Marriage, from Selected Poems (Carcanet) she asks: Is there ever a new beginning when every /word has its ten years’ weight? – adding: We have taken our shape from the/damage we do one another, gently as bodies moving in the night. Her acute, almost painful sensitivity towards her husband is elegiac – but what hurt me, as you chose slowly/was the delicacy of your gesture:/the curious child, loving blossom/and mosses, still eager/in your disguise as an old man.

Feinstein found much inspiration in her Jewish heritage, drawing on Russian women poets. She has been noted for – if not overshadowed by – her translations of the emotional work of Marina Tsvetaeva, which first appeared in 1961. followed by her biography of the Russian’s tragic life, A Captive Lion in 1987.