Style, substance, and, above all, access to materials make this book THE biography to read about Millay.

Milford was the only author granted permission to use the mountains of journals and letters left to Norma, one of Millay's sisters. Norma denied access to all but Milford, and she chose well. The author's wordcraft and narrative rhythms are a perfect fit with Millay's fascinating, although ultimately tragic, life story.

From Millay's early success placing poems in a juvenile magazine to her sold-out reading tours and eventual heroin addiction, Milford provides detailed documentation. She draws on interviews with surviving acquaintances and endless supplies of letters and journals. The author manages to present the poet's complicated character without turning overly defensive of her, a frequent pitfall for biographers of less-than-angelic subjects.

My only quibble is that the narrative is occasionally interrupted by details of interest to scholars but perhaps not to ordinary readers. This was probably inevitable, given Milford's opportunity to use records unavailable to others. Overall, though, this is a model biography. It is an example of how to distill an archival abundance into a helluva story.

It offers a comprehensive and engaging look at the life of Millay, one that will appeal to both scholars and general readers alike.

Milford's critical biography of Millay is truly a masterpiece.

It is detailed, meticulous, and stark, presenting a comprehensive and in-depth exploration of Millay's life and work.

Vastly more textured than Epstein's biography, which I also found enjoyable but for different reasons, Milford's work benefits from the weight of Millay's personal papers and correspondence.

This added material provides an almost uncomfortable level of intimacy, allowing readers to gain a deeper understanding of Millay's inner thoughts and emotions.

If Milford were to write a second book about the process of writing this first book, including detailed descriptions of all her interactions with Norma Millay at Steepletop, I would eagerly read that as well.

Such a book would offer valuable insights into the research and writing process, as well as the personal and professional relationships that influenced Milford's work.

It would be a fascinating addition to the existing body of work on Millay and would no doubt be of great interest to scholars, fans, and anyone interested in the art of biography.

What a captivating biography of an outstanding literary and feminist icon. Nancy Milford spent 30 years penning this biography of "Vincent", and after reading it, one can fathom the reason. Milford remains astonishingly faithful to her sources - a vast trove of hitherto unseen letters, journals, notebooks, unfinished works, and more from Edna St. Vincent Millay's estate.

In the book, she gives the sources room to expand and breathe, enabling us readers to immerse ourselves in Vincent's rich and flawless writing. We get to peruse full letters and ten-page poems in their entirety. We are transported into the heart of her luxurious, drama-filled life. Yet Milford allows Vincent's literary achievements, her forthright eroticism, her late-life petulance, addiction, and downward spiral to unfold quietly, without a trace of sensationalism. Above all, this book feels genuine.

However, it appears to me that Milford made a deliberate methodological choice with this biography, one that I ultimately regretted. "Savage Beauty" almost reads in real-time; that is, she delights in the details of Vincent's remarkable life in a manner that makes you feel as if you are observing it through a hidden camera. Yet Milford does little in terms of contextualization.

As a historian, I was left wondering why Milford failed to situate Vincent's life within the history of feminism during that era, the changing sexual ideals and opportunities for American women, the history of New York's bohemia... I could enumerate countless themes that could have been addressed here. Vincent's life seemed like the perfect entry point into these fascinating processes, but Milford chose not to make it so.

As someone who knows far less about poetry than about history, I yearned for some analysis of Vincent's work. Vincent's poems seemed rather old-fashioned during a time of bold experimentation with modernist forms. Wasn't she a relic? Was she merely a celebrity or was she truly worthy of the copious praise she received throughout her life?

Milford offers little in the way of judgment of Vincent, her poetry, and her life. While I believe this was intentional and, on some level, admirable, it seemed as if she missed a rare opportunity to explain the way in which the early 20th century influenced Vincent, and vice versa.

I picked up the book, even though I had never heard of Edna St. Vincent Millay before. As I delved into it, learning about her life, the life of her family, and life in the beginning of the 20th century through this remarkable person became an eventful and consuming read.

At times, she seemed to pose as a somewhat questionable character. However, she was still a radical figure for her era. She lived her life to the fullest, it seemed, with a highly creative and intelligent mind that produced stunning poetry.

Her works are a testament to her talent and the unique perspective she had on the world. Reading about her experiences and the challenges she faced was both inspiring and thought-provoking. I found myself developing a great deal of respect for her as I learned more about her life and work. Respect ✊

Just started this, but so far so good.

Millay was an extremely "outspoken" character for her era. She was sexually promiscuous and not particular about the gender with whom she had relations. She smoked, drank, and attended parties. Politically, she was vocal and active. She detested the Lindberghs and publicly criticized them when they were advocating for the Nazis. People both adored and hated and feared her. Thomas Hardy once stated that there were only two good things about America - the skyscraper and the poetry of Edna St Vincent Millay. This book was written with the assistance of her sister, who permitted the author to access letters, writings, and photos that no one else had ever had the opportunity to see.

There are a few of Millay's poems that have a profound impact on me. I'm not typically a fan of sonnets, but, oh my, does she write some exquisitely beautiful, bittersweet ones.

Here is the one that inspired me to pick up this book:

"Time Does Not Bring Relief"

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
who told me that time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him in the shrinking of the tide;
the old snows melt from every mountainside;
and last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
heaped in my heart, and old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
to go - so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
where never fell his boot or shone his face
I say "There is no memory of him here."
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

It's really good stuff.

I knew almost nothing of Vincent Millay before reading this bio, apart from the famous lines "My candle burns at both ends..." and the poem "Renascence."

So, I was truly entranced and intrigued by this evanescent poet. Reading her poetry is like delving into some intricate, beautiful intersection of mechanism and artistry. I can vividly picture an infinitely delicate, infinitely precise clock made of shining gold gears and cogs and springs, where everything is both lovely and purposeful.

Her life, however, was a complex and tumultuous one. It seems to me that she existed in a time when the bonds of her sex were so heavy that she could do nothing until she broke them. And so, she spent her life defying convention with the tools available to her, namely, sexuality. She had her poetry, her true calling and purpose, but it had to be fueled by rather torrid relationships.

And in the end, the alcohol and finally the opioid addiction is truly heartbreaking. I was stunned by the references to her diaries towards the end of her life, recording how many grains of morphine were injected and at what times each day, with such events occurring every hour or two throughout the day and night. It is a tragic and poignant story of a brilliant poet whose life was filled with both passion and pain.

This work is not truly a biography but rather a tiresome chronology of ESVM's letters.

It seems that without Milford's commentary, these letters might have held more intrigue.

The author's decision to present them in such a dry and chronological manner detracts from their potential.

Perhaps a more engaging approach could have been taken to bring out the true essence and significance of ESVM's correspondence.

As it stands, the reader is left feeling somewhat bored and unfulfilled.

It is a pity that the opportunity to make this collection of letters more interesting was not seized.

With a bit more creativity and a different editorial style, this could have been a much more captivating read.

As it is, it remains a rather lackluster chronology that fails to fully engage the reader's interest.

This is a truly remarkable biography, and there are numerous reasons for this.

First and foremost, I must confess my own ignorance regarding much of Millay's work. I was rather surprised by just how well-known she was during her time. I had taken advanced English courses in high school and studied English quite extensively in college, yet my knowledge of her was extremely limited. The same held true for my English-nerd friends when I brought her up. This could potentially reflect poorly on the school systems, the way women's fame is regarded, the way poetry is perceived, or perhaps all three.

Like so many individuals who show great promise at a young age - she wrote her first acclaimed poem as a teenager - she was swiftly thrust into the spotlight and cherished every moment of it. She led a highly dramatic and alluring life, which, as is often the case, ended sadly and more abruptly than it should have.

I've come across some reviews that complain about the significant focus on her lovers in the book. However, I believe each of these relationships is very revealing about Millay, especially those with Ferdinand Earle, Arthur Ficke, Edmund Wilson, and, of course, Eugen Boissevain. In fact, I was most intrigued by her relationship with Boissevain, as a result of the portrayal of her love life. It seemed as if no one could ever get her to commit in any way, so one couldn't help but grow curious about what it was that Boissevain had or did that the others didn't. Out of curiosity, I ended up breezing through the "juicy" parts to understand what it was that led her into domestic life.

What Boissevain did was essentially mother her - which made sense given Millay's relationship with her own mother. Millay had an incredibly close - and rather odd - relationship with her mother. It appeared as though there was no other woman that Millay was ever as close to, including her sisters, both of whom she also had very strange relationships with.

Returning to Boissevain, their relationship was truly fascinating. For instance, when Millay was addicted to morphine, Boissevain began taking the drug as well, in an attempt to understand what she was going through. When she quit, he quit too. When he was dealing with lung cancer and had difficulties breathing, she mimicked this, trying to empathize with his pain. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.

I do concur with those who desired more poetry in the book. However, the book is so excellent that if you don't already own any of her poetry, you won't have any trouble going out and purchasing one. Milford does a great job of illuminating Millay's creative process, and I think that is more crucial in the context of this biography.

I discovered far too many similarities between myself and Millay, which made it an engaging read. I believe any young, ambitious writer will see a bit of themselves in her... perhaps that's why my Grandmother was wise enough to give it to me.

All in all, it's a captivating read, even for someone who was rather unfamiliar with Millay's work. I have a profound appreciation for who she is, and I think this was a wonderful introduction. Like any long non-fiction book, it can take a considerable amount of time to read through, and it has its slow moments - I'm a fast reader and it took me about a month and a half - but it's well worth reading nonetheless.

Note: I'm still reflecting on this book even weeks later, so it definitely earns a five-star rating.

I've delved into two other books that explore someone's life with such obsessive detail. One focuses on Churchill and Gandhi, and the other on John Adams (I'm actually still plodding through that one). What I can truly say about books that are this obsessively fixated on the day-to-day of a human's life is that perhaps someone, somewhere might care, but I really can't fathom who.

I managed to reach page 184 out of 509 (of text), which is 36% of the way through. If an author can't engage me by then (and this was a book club book, so I had extra motivation to finish, even if I didn't particularly enjoy it), then, to me, it's a lost cause. There was a substantial section (maybe a chapter?) about Millay's first truly widely acclaimed poem. The chapter included her reading a couple of stanzas and discussed her thoughts on writing it, along with pages and pages about her relationship with the editor of the contest that brought it to the public's attention. The problem? I'd never heard of it or read it. I had absolutely no context for the poem. When the book talked about her struggles to decide whether to use this image or that wording, it was meaningless to me, as I had never read the poem. Unknown to me, the entire poem was included at the end of the chapter. A simple parenthetical phrase at the beginning of the chapter referencing that would have provided the entire section with context and made it feel relevant to read, instead of leaving me feeling like an outsider for whom this book was not intended.

And then there's the absurd level of detail. I just can't even... Most of the third of the book that I read chronicles what Millay did literally week by week. This week she wrote a letter that said X. The next week she wrote a letter that said Y. For the next two weeks, she didn't write a letter, and then she wrote three the following week to these people, and they said A, B, and C. Dear God, who cares?

There are probably people who are well-versed in Millay's life and will be captivated by the fine details of every minute of her youth. Sadly, it's likely her adulthood that was worth reading about, and I couldn't even force myself to the halfway point to discover why she is so noteworthy.

Here is an interesting biography of Millay that truly intrigues the reader. It delves deep into her soul, her mind, and reveals what exactly motivated her towards her passion for poetry. The way it is written makes one eager to understand her on a more personal level.

Milford's work in this biography is remarkable. It provides excellent background information on her childhood and adulthood, which served as a source of inspiration for her writing. By learning about her early years and the experiences she went through, we can gain a better understanding of the emotions and thoughts that influenced her poetry.

This biography not only offers a glimpse into the life of a remarkable poet but also invites us to explore the creative process that lies behind her works. It makes us appreciate the power of words and the ability of poetry to express the deepest of human feelings. Overall, it is a captivating read that leaves the reader with a newfound respect for Millay and her contributions to the world of literature.

DNF at under 50 pages.

This is truly one of those books that encompasses every minuscule scrap of detail. As a result, there is very little coherent narrative to speak of. It seems as if the author has gone to extreme lengths to include every single tidbit, without much regard for the overall flow and structure of the story.

Moreover, the author has inserted herself and her thoughts on the materials she is describing in a rather tedious manner. It becomes tiresome to constantly be bombarded with the author's personal musings and opinions. I am thoroughly sick and tired of authors who purport to be selling biographies, only to turn it into an opportunity for them to talk about themselves ad nauseam.

In my opinion, this book is a prime example of what not to do when writing a book. It lacks focus, has too much extraneous detail, and the author's self-indulgence detracts from the potential value of the content. I would highly recommend skipping this book and looking for something more engaging and well-written.

In the 1920s and 1930s, rather than rock stars, there were lyric poets who journeyed around and recited their works to adoring fans. Edna St. Vincent Millay, or "Vincent" as she was known, was among those poets.

As I perused Milford's biography of Millay, I envisioned her as a combination of Taylor Swift/any of the Runaways and Janis Joplin. She even battled addictions to morphine and barbiturates (the latter to assist her in sleeping).

One of Milford's contentions appears to be that Vincent's early parentification - she was left to look after her two younger sisters after their mother left their father and earned a living as a traveling nurse/hairdresser - along with her diminutive elfin physical appearance led to Millay's life-long, willing infantilization.

She was a rebellious pioneer when it came to expressing the emotional and sexual desires of women, yet also hopelessly codependent with her husband Eugene Boissevain. Brilliant, sexy, and irresistibly charming, almost everyone of all genders yielded to her whims and wishes, which, ultimately, contributed to her relatively early death at the age of 58.

This is a quite good read, and you also get to revisit many of Millay's poems.