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Hate, Love, Hate
This is what Cody Sexton, managing editor for A Thin Slice of Anxiety said – Pytell’s Hate, Love, Hate is both humane and delinquent. It’s a deep, dark, velvety excursion with razor sharp teeth. And it bites. Jide Badmus, Author – What Do I Call My Love For Your Body? thinks – Hate, Love, Hate is proof that there’s a bit of everything in everything. The only absolute is that these brutally sincere verses, rich in soft similes and lush antithetic nuances, will take you to the height of reality. Gravity is merciless once you close the book. While Justin Lacour, EiC of Trampoline: A Journal of Poetry had this to say – The poems in Hate, Love, Hate sneak up on you: One second you...
First-Year
Carson Pytell’s First-Year is a moving collection of quiet and contemplative poetry. With deceptively simple narratives, Pytell captures the weight of our personal histories and the hidden significance of our trifles. Yet he also flirts with the senselessness that underlies it all. In this way, First-Year is a deeply personal work of both poetic reflection and Cioranian musings. This is poetry with a mission, and it succeeds. - Brian Geiger (Founder/Editor, Vita Brevis Press)
Sketching
This collection of poetry is deep, but delicate. It blends the earthly gamboling and introspection of John Fowles' "The Tree" with the existentialism (and at times the aesthetic) of John Berryman's "Dream Songs." I particularly liked "Caves" - "Earth is to sky a tether / how love loves hate some way / and Einstein did have a couple beers / like Isadora Duncan sat down." These poems have a way of making you feel like you have been brought out to a cabin in the woods to search within and without. Pytell delivers answers, and asks questions. He at times provides the meaning, and at times searches for it, while conveying a deep understanding of man's experience, from seed to stalk, and ultimately, to dust.
A Little Smaller Than the Final Quark
“I once judged a poetry contest where an entrant’s submission consisted of three words: I’M SO LONELY. That’s it. I didn’t select that poem, but, a decade later, I’ve forgotten the award winner, forgotten the finalists, but still remember her three words, even her bio, which let me know she was an elderly woman—and she was aching with loneliness. I appreciate the simple honestly, even if the writing itself wasn’t exactly poetic. But maybe it was. Carson Pytell’s 'Love Me, Love Me, Love Me, I’m a Poet' has that same simplicity, honesty, identification, and a touch of the unforgettable. With his 'Hush, don’t say it. That’s what I’m for,' I nod my head in agreement. Th...
Tomorrow Everyday, Yesterday Too
“Whether he's musing on ancient mythology or silent films, quoting Homer Simpson or Pius II, following Max Von Sydow through an Ingmar Bergman film, quoting his father or reenvisioning Dickens, Carson Pytell's collection Tomorrow Everyday, Yesterday Too lives up to its title by covering as many bases as you could imagine in such a short amount of space without being scattered. The poems remain focused as the book seems to fly by then begs you to read it again.” — Zebulon Huset, Editor of Coastal Shelf “Like John Berryman's Dream Songs, Carson Pytell's Tomorrow Everyday, Yesterday Too fills the soul like foaming ocean water in a cask. Bound to our earthly lot, but infused with celesti...
Willoughby, New York
"I love Carson Pytell’s work. It reminds me of Charles Bukowski and Fredrick Exley. It reminds me of Kevin Ridgeway and John Fante. It reminds me of the kind of fiction that a lot of us were trying to do when I lived and worked in Long Beach. So many of us who studied under Gerry Locklin and Ray Zepeda were going after a kind of gritty realism, and some of us accomplished the spirit and tone. Others did not. I never did to the degree that I wanted to, and so I shifted to different kinds of writing. Pytell, however, is a kind of master of this type of writing, and his fiction collection, Willoughby, New York, is a powerful work." —John Brantingham
United States Supreme Court Reports
First series, books 1-43, includes "Notes on U.S. reports" by Walter Malins Rose.
Speed
Contains two autobiographical novels: "Speed" follows Billy as he hustles for dope and money, crashing in garbage-strewn apartments; and "Kentucky Ham" takes him from the squalor of the East Village crash pads to his father's literary hideaway in Tangier. These autobiographical novels tell a story of generational isolation.
