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Showing posts with label Ethan Coen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ethan Coen. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Giveaway - The Day The World Ends: Poems by Ethan Coen
It's National Poetry Month and to celebrate I will be giving away a copy of Ethan Coen's newly released book, THE DAY THE WORLD ENDS: POEMS. Yes, that is right, Ethan Coen, half of the famed filmmaker duo, the Coen brothers, has released a new book of poetry this month. It is described as "a collection of poems that offers humor and provides insight into an artist who has always pushed the boundaries of his craft. THE DAY THE WORLD ENDS is a remarkable range of poems that are as funny, ribald, provocative, raw, and often touching as the brilliant films that have made the Coen brothers cult legends. Short, accessible, and nearly the same price as a movie ticket, this new poetry collection is a perfect treat for Coen’s legions of fans."
And just in case you don't know who the Coen brothers are, here is a hint:
They are the renowned filmmakers and creators of such films as, Raising Arizona; Miller’s Crossing; Barton Fink; The Hudsucker Proxy; Fargo; The Big Lebowski; O Brother, Where Art Thou?; Intolerable Cruelty; an adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s No Country for Old Men; Burn After Reading; and—most recently—True Grit, which was nominated for ten Academy Awards.
Yep, those guys.
Thanks to Crown Publishing's imprint Broadway Books, I've been provided with the opportunity to giveaway a copy of Ethan Coen's poetry book, THE DAY THE WORLD ENDS: POEMS. If you are interested in winning a copy, all you have to do is leave a comment below in the comments section telling me who your favorite poet is. The giveaway is open to US and Canada. Last day to enter is April 17th, 2012 and the winner will be announced on April 18th, 2012. Good luck!
Oh, and just to whet your appetite, here is one of my favorite poems from the book:
Self-Assessment
by Ethan Coen
In his heart a young fighter expects no defeats,
Every ham can play Hamlet, all poets are Keats
And all women are Garbo and me Cary Grant,
Being each of us all his own best sycophant.
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