About the Author:
Nancy Fitz-Hugh Meneely, Smith College B.A. in hand and nothing at all to suggest she knew how to make a lesson plan, began professional life as an English teacher in Vermont's Waterbury High School. When, after two happy years, Vermont suggested it was important that she sport a real credential, she acquired a Master of Arts in Teaching from Yale. After discovering her best students were listening to her from inside hallucinations, she moved into the work of training community/school teams in drug abuse prevention at Yale's Drug Dependence Institute. Later, with a Master's of Education in Human Relations from the UMass School of Education, she tacked back and forth across a career path in training, counseling and education, finishing paid employment in a twenty-year career with the Federal Emergency Management Agency in Washington, DC, where she worked first in emergency management training and then directly in support of response and recovery operations. She retired north to Connecticut and now devotes much of her time to the Guilford Poets Guild and the Guilford A Better Chance Program.
Review:
This book engages the most substantial human matters--war, love, grief, childhood--in poems that are astute, musical and full of the most perceptive feeling. The reader feels the great pity of suffering, the redemptive glimpses and tenuous handholds that illuminate and darken the days of a World War II veteran and his family... Nancy Meneely is a poet of the first order, one who sees how the unbearable and bearable are constant partners in the drama of life. --Baron Wormser
The subject matter of Letter From Italy, 1944 is as essential and as fierce as it comes: love, war, childbirth, terror, elation, death. Nancy Fitz-Hugh Meneely has the reticence of Bishop and the tender heart of Hardy, and like Hardy, confronts all the grave satires of historic circumstance. Only the wisest and gentlest of poets is capable of giving to the transfiguring catalyst of song a non-violent knowledge of violence. Meneely does this: the poems in this collection bring silence to a low, persistent, rhapsodic wail. --Gray Jacobik
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