Linda Gregg

1985 Winner in
Poetry

Linda Gregg authored seven books of poetry, including Too Bright to See (1981); Alma (1985); The Sacraments of Desire (1992); Chosen by the Lion (1995); Things and Flesh (1999), which was a finalist for the Kingsley Tufts Award for Poetry; In the Middle Distance (2006); and All of It Singing: New and Selected Poems (2011), which received the Jackson Poetry Prize from Poets & Writers, the Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize from the Academy of American Poets, the William Carlos Williams Award from the Poetry Society of America, and the American Book Award from the Before Columbus Foundation. Gregg was the recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the Lannan Foundation, and the National Endowment for the Arts. Her awards include the Sara Teasdale Award, the Jerome J. Shestack Poetry Prize, numerous Pushcart Prizes, a Whiting Award in Poetry, and the PEN/Voelcker Award in Poetry for achievement across her career. Gregg taught at the University of Iowa, the University of California, Berkeley, and Princeton University. She lived in New York until she passed away in 2019.

Photo Credit:
Hal Lum
Reviews & Praise

“[Gregg’s] poems are as pure and clear and elemental as the Greek light and the dramatic action as sharply portrayed as in classical art.” —American Poet [on All of It Singing]

“[Gregg’s] poetry breaks and devours comforting sentiments, soothing language, elevated humbug, wishful thinking . . . [Her poetry] menaces or devours not flesh and blood but cozy preconceptions.” —The Washington Post [on In the Middle Distance]

“In the gorgeous and conflicted middle distance of Gregg’s poems, “the sun . . . is always going down,” and the speaker is walking and thinking of love and solitude and silence, leaving the reader to lavish in the charged intimacies of the moment.” —Boston Review [on In the Middle Distance]

“I have loved Linda Gregg’s poems since I first read them. They are original in the way that really matters: they speak clearly of their source. They are inseparable from the surprising, unrolling, eventful, pure current of their language, and they convey at once the pain of individual loss, a steady and utterly personal radiance.” —W.S. Merwin