When I read Tove Ditlvesen's The Trouble with Happiness and Other Stories, I was struck by the potent images in each story. The opening story, 'The Umbrella', sets up the tone of the collection beautifully:
'When she was half-asleep,' Ditlevsen writes, 'a strange desire came drifting into her consciousness: if only I had an umbrella, she thought. It occurred to her suddenly that this item, which for certain people was just a natural necessity, she had longed for her whole life.'

In Ditlevsen's work, there's a sense of longing for the mundane that is only undermined by a simultaneous resentment of 'everydayness.' This dual desire/dread is distilled powerfully in the poems of There Lives a Girl in Me Who Will Not Die (translated from the Danish by Sophia Hersi Smith and Jennifer Russell).

In the poems, days are meaningless but also overwrought with feeling. Childhood (girlhood, specifically) is a memory that 'Will Not Die' but instead is continually, painfully re-enacted into adulthood. Lamps, candles, moons and stars illuminate the homes and streets of Copenhagen indiscriminately. Ditlevsen's return to the motif of faces: faces slipping, contorted; faces disembodied and mocking; faces drooping with age but also in a semi-magical realist, melting manner. Ditlvesen's poems seem to precede the 1990s matricentric theory of the 'mask of motherhood.' She extends it further, even, contending with the mask of girlhood. Even, at times, the mask of personhood. Faces, are, masks, she suggests. How do we remove them?

Olga Ravn's introduction adds useful insight both to Ditlevsen's work and to her own. It highlights a textual thread connecting the work of both Danish, women writers through time. Both writers are occupied with the 'domestic'; motherhood, marriage, the trappings of (re)producing and the ostensibly incompatible nature of womanhood and writing. Despite this, Ditvelsen's work is prolific. Her poetry collections were published between 1939 and and 1978, with the final publication, 'To a Little Girl' coming posthumously in 1978. I admire Olga Ravn's contention that Ditlevsen was a 'worker's writer,' asserting that women's writing about their own bodies constitutes a kind of 'workplace literature.' Perhaps the collapsing between body and home in the poems is a particular way of communicating this. Ditvelsen's 'Room of One's Own is 'The Round Room,' the place in her head she retreats to write. Here, amongst her psychic furniture, she can shirk the clamour and broach a place of unbroken silence. She may write.

The poems selected in the collection all have an urgency to them. I found the later collections growing in power. Images were returned to with intention. An oeuvre of motifs begins to unravel in like wool; hands, lips, the moon. Rain, umbrellas, alleyways and city streets.

The collection is not only about womanhood, but about the context of space and place in building a self. The 20th century Danish home is dissected, as is the streets around them. At times, they are bleak. But in moments, shards of light break through. There is a sense of hope, of personal and creative vitality amongst the dejection that colour's Ditvelsen's poetry. There is still hope to to find your own Round Room. This psychic structure can be as crucial a kind of architecture as the brick and mortar of the 'real' structure of the home. Here, you can conjure all the faces in your repertoire. Invoke a carnival of sorts. As the closing poem. 'Afterthought' begins, 'when woman writes / little devils swarm.' A dark masque amongst candlelight. Here what has been restraining can slacken, can dance.

Thank you, Farrar, Straus and Giroux for the review copy.

Tove Ditlevsen is reported to have a positive literary reputation in her native Denmark, and it is my understanding that she is widely read among the populace and her poems are read and memorized by schoolchildren. My unfamiliarity with her large library of published titles among various genres: poetry, fiction, memoir, etc., means that I can enjoy the "discovery" of her work as if I had stumbled upon something entirely new. I started my journey into her catalog with The Copenhagen Trilogy, her excellent and noteworthy memoir collection. So I was prepared to respond right away to an opportunity to dive into her poetry. The experience has been gratifyingly positive. This collection gathers poems from her entire career, with selections from each of her published poetic works. Her style and her approach to form relaxes and expands as she grows and matures, giving the reader an opportunity to enjoy the development of her considerable skill.

Many of the poems included have a rawness and honesty that leaps off the page. I read "To My Dead Child" at a local bar. My face must have betrayed my reaction to sadness on the page, as my friend the bartender asked what I was thinking. I shared the book with her so she could read the poem herself. She was similarly moved, and told me later that she was never going to forget reading it.

I was struck by these lines from Deception:

Until a gesture as unconscious
as the flower’s quiet turning towards the sun
now and then leaves my face unguarded
and revives your old, angry hopes.

(I'm thinking of memorizing this one for myself.)

Another quote that arrested my attention, from The Family:

There is no cure
for family.
It knows you
too well to
love you
and too
little to care for
your company.

This is one of those books that I will reread as soon as I've finished, just so I can enjoy the experience again right away. Ditlevsen may be familiar to many readers, but I'm glad I could finally come along for the ride. HIghly recommended.

I am pleased to have had the opportunity to review There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die thanks to the advance electronic reader copy provided by Farrar, Straus, and Giroux Publishers and Netgalley.com in exchange for an honest review.

The author does a really great job immersing you into their life. It goes into a range of ups and downs with her husband, children, personal struggles, etc. Would definitely recommend if you need a book to put you in a different persons shoes!

Thank you to Tove Ditlevsen, Farrar, Straus, Giroux, and Netgalley for this advanced reader copy of "There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die: Selected Poems" for an honest review.

I was looking forward to this newest collection of poems, but sadly this one fell flat for me before I hit the 1/3rd mark of my read even. I didn't find the works very lyrical or darkly funny, as the write-up said to expect. This came off a bit too stilted, overly detailed, and emotionally removed from how I like my poetry usually.

Poetry that brings imaginative images to mind as I read. Seeing a glimpse into this woman's mind the precious life she lived and at times sad. ""Perhaps I have been granted strength to carry more than I can bear" The empathetic part of me yearned to give her a long hug. Not for the faint-hearted but well worth it for those open to feel the emotions of another.

Publishing on March 11, 2025 with Farrar, Straus and Giroux

I love this! I usually read these books translated into Swedish so it's a bit unnatural to me to read these kind of books in English but I really enjoyed the translation. Ditlevsen was a very talented writer. Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher and the author for a chance to read this book.

Originally written between 1939-1973 and translated from Danish, this collection of poems by famed author Tove Ditlevsen reminds me that though times and places may change, so much of what we feel and love stays the same. These poems could have been written last year and I would have believed it. Ditlevsen taps into the hopefulness of youth, the anguish of growing old(er), and the ruins of love in a way that hit close to home more than once.

I imagine translating poetry to be a challenging task (how to keep the meaning while not losing the style?), and so I commend the translators for doing an amazing job here. I felt so much of what Ditlevsen tried to convey.

Tove Ditlevsen is beloved in Denmark, but perhaps something was lost a bit in translation because her poetry felt very tedious and stagnant to me. I think the criticism that her writing style when rhymed feels very antiquated has merit, I did find towards the end of the collection when her work moved to free form, it was a lot more interesting and digestible but even so, nothing really captured my emotions or imagination. A pretty disappointing collection unfortunately.

While I have The Copenhagen Trilogy on my shelf I haven't had the opportunity to read it yet, so this was my first foray into the work of Tove Ditlevsen.
There Lives A Young Girl In Me Who Will Not Die is a collection of selected poems from across the career of Danish poet and author Tove Ditlevsen. I thoroughly appreciated this volume, which was greatly enhanced by the foreword and afterword which explained the structure and restraint of her chosen form, as well as some of the struggles of Ditlevsen's difficult life.
Ditlevsen's poetry is candid in subject, with language that is deftly handled and expertly executed. The poetry has recurring themes that touch on a variety of her experiences from childhood—through love, husbands, children, disillusionment, loss, and despair.
The titular poem was, indeed, one of many highlights for me. I highly recommend this wonderful, dark and powerful collection of poems by Tove Ditlevsen if you are a lover of poetry from Anne Sexton, Sylvia Plath, or just poignant poetry detailing a woman's experience.

Thank you to NetGalley, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, and the Author's Estate for access to an eARC. All opinions are my own.

There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die is a stunning collection of selected poems spanning the career of Danish poet and author Tove Ditlevsen.

This was my first time reading Ditlevsen’s work, and I can’t help but feel as though I’ve been missing out on years of vulnerable, raw beauty. Yet, I like to believe her poetry found me at the perfect moment in my life.

Ditlevsen’s style evolves across the years, creating the sense of growing up alongside her words and experiences. This collection is both intimate and expansive, offering glimpses into her life through recurring themes of childhood, love, loss, family, self-reflection, heartache, and melancholy. The candor of her voice, paired with her masterful use of language, makes her poetry deeply affecting.

There’s a sharpness to her work that reminded me of my long-time favorite poet, Edna St. Vincent Millay. I’d also recommend Ditlevsen’s writing to fans of Anne Sexton and Sylvia Plath, as they share a similar ability to distill raw emotion into unforgettable lines.

Her poems hold immense power, often packing an emotional punch in just a few words or lines. I found myself highlighting so many passages, unable to pick a favorite. Ditlevsen’s ability to balance darkness with glimpses of beauty and joy is remarkable, though her lingering sadness is palpable throughout. Knowing the poet’s tragic end adds a layer of poignancy to the collection, making it all the more haunting.

This book left a lasting impression, and I’m eager to explore more of Ditlevsen’s work.

Thank you to NetGalley and FSG for the opportunity to read an advanced copy of this powerful collection.

Como que la poesía era realmente buena, no me malinterpretes, solo que no resoné con mucha de ella como suelo hacer normalmente. Por alguna razón, tenía las expectativas muy altas, así que no sé, simplemente no me impactó de la manera que esperaba

I really wanted to love this. I went in I think with too high of exceptions, which altered my perception of the poetry. I did like some of the poems, and don't get me wrong, the poems were beautiful I just personally did not resonate with them. Since I did not resonate with them, they fell short for me and I just felt a bit bored. I think realistically I would give it 2.5 stars.

There lives a girl in me who will not die is eye opening, nostalgic enchanting, and harrowing. Tove Ditlevsen does a fantastic job at looking back and looking forward. Reflecting on life as it is and as it was. This collection touches on childhood, falling in and out of love, mental health, motherhood, longing, self, life, death, and marriage in such an elegant manner.
So Stunningly written.

I was so pleased to have the wonderful translator’s note at the beginning of this collection of poetry. Knowing nothing of the author’s work it was a perfect introduction into the world I was about to enter. I particularly enjoyed the curation of the poems and the way in which the different sections were themed.

While no single poem stood out as particularly memorable, the collection as a whole left a lasting impression on me. The author’s despair and struggles became more palpable the longer I spent with her work, and even though I finished the collection days ago, I still feel an uneasiness when I think about it. It's definitely a collection I wouldn’t mind revisiting someday.

P.S. The introduction and the translator’s note added insightful commentary that helped me appreciate the poems even more.

The first time I found out about Ditlevsen’s The Copenhagen Trilogies, I fell in love with her writing. It is vulnerable, sad, and painfully beautiful.
This collection of poetry is just as great. Over the years, we see her style change.
If you’re a fan of Virginia Woolf or Sylvia Plath, check this book out.

I am a huge Ditlevsen fan but have never read her poetry. I was so surprised and yet not, it has her signature worries and charm and I love it.

I really loved this. There were so many ripples of childhood throughout and the writing was beautiful. Motherhood, mental health, childhood, marriage, loneliness, companionship, family - so many things were so well explored and I definitely recommend it.

I'm the first to rate and review this book, and yes, I wish I had nicer things to say, but as I always say, for me, a review is meant to reflect a personal reading experience, not be the end-all judgement of the book itself.
Which is to say that Tove Ditlevsen was an acclaimed, beloved, lauded poet in her native Denmark and perhaps beyond it. She was also a very unhappy woman (as in very unhappy - she killed herself) with one failed romance after another, who lived from 1920s to 1970s. All of her work, presented in this volume in chronological order reflect all those things ... and pretty much exclusively those things. If you're interested in the interiority of a depressed woman from that era, by all means this is the book for you.
Ditlevsen interestingly enough often went for rhyming (as it should be) poetry, and sometimes ultra minimalistic. So the collection, despite its page count, reads very quickly.
And yes, it didn't make much of an impression on this reader, but user milage may vary. Thanks Netgalley.

First, I'd like to extend a thanks to the author of the poems, Tove Ditlevsen, the translators, the publisher of this collection, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, and NetGalley for the privilege of being able to read There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die. I will share my review to Goodreads, Amazon, and Barnes & Noble upon release.

After reading the background on the author, I was extremely interested in the poetry and was surprised by how much imagery and feeeling were conveyed. Many of the poems engage the idea of aging, being a woman, and finding your place in the world with a changing identity. Some of the poems are very sad and difficult, and made me feel for the poet and what she must have been through to feel such sadness and struggle. These are poems that many women can identify with, considering the difficulty of holding so many roles.

The author is able to express so many major themes of adulthood and feminitity, poverty, aging, and the loss of loved ones in a way that both tells stories and builds worlds through lovely images and heartbreaking realizations. I would recommend this for anyone who enjoys poetry in translation, gender studies topics, is discovering their identity, or struggling with some major traumas they may need help working through. There are some poems that just feel deeply sad, without resolution or any cheerfulness, much like some events in life. I felt like the voice of the author was very clear and vulnerable, as pointed out by the translators at the end. This could be really helpful for someone needing real and honest truths about things they may be feeling.