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The invisible is a key concept in Diane Frank’s poetry and thought. It recurs in “Some Days You Wake Up Singing” (“ocean birds / continue their migration / to an invisible world”), “Quintara Street,” which is an elegy for her dead friend Mickey, who’d been a slave in a Japanese internment camp in Indonesia during World War Two (“When it’s my time / to walk through the door to the invisible, / I know that Mickey will be waiting…”), and in “The Last Sunset,” a poem whose tone is similarly elegiac: “everything you know / merging into an invisible world….”
And if this book should be read for any reason at all it should be appreciated for its stunning command of depth its language and scope of insight into what he (Pynchon) does manage to make obvious and that is the unequivocal depravity of the human condition in its ability to jump from the page and literally assault the reader with perceptions of delusion decadence debauchery and wantonness. And as I researched before during and after reading the book I discovered a cult of hobbyists and influencers code breakers and book reviewers along with any number of youtubers and devoted followers who still and probably always will spend countless hours attempting to decipher and explain the caterwauling mayhem and madness behind Pynchon’s method.
Carter practiced psychiatry for four decades. Her ability to translate perceptions, moods, and emotions from nature to humanity provides unique, original, revelations about the common flora and fauna of the Northwest. She is a master of the verb, the most important word in a sentence, and certainly in a phrase of poetry. “…vines ribbon, the ocean takes root inland, seed pods scab.”
An Impossibility of Crows by Kirsten Kaschock soaks fully in the chill waters of death and loss, the palimpsest of memories overwriting what we once knew. It’s rare that an adult can retain, not merely memories of, but the actual feeling of being a child. Orwell, writing about Dickens, spoke to the difficulty for novelists in doing so.
The Side Effects is a chapbook like no other. In “side effects to talking” the speaker’s “voice loses its balance.” But the poet never does. Time and again he goes to the edge but not over, in these visceral poems written by a poet with things to say, who says them
A Single Witness is based on a true story in which a man is convicted of raping his daughter and sentenced to hard labor. But it’s not quite as simple as that in the novel. Anna Maria hardly comes out of it as a “winner.” Christine Balint develops the story from the scant historical record. There are no winners; there may not even be any “justice.”
Goldman-Sherman is a poet uniquely able to identify with the oppressed, knowing what it is to be controlled, fed lies while vulnerable, and used at the pleasure of another. If family can hurt family, it is because Abraham’s sons continue to live and die. Philadelphia can only survive and bear a courageous witness, sharing in ways the reader won’t easily forget.
Gran Partita is a postcard from a rare place, a musician cum poet’s work, or rather a series of them. It ranges around the world as well as within the mind of a creative.It is an eclectic collection that bucks strict theming, opting instead to name its sections after classical movement forms that have a rough correlation, but allow for expressive musicality.
So, why start the collection with outer space? With a childhood self looking up to the night sky in awe? For me, the undercurrent of this book is an older narrator looking back at a young self who is perplexed by an unknown or hidden world. This makes for a relatable sensation: the older self understanding something the younger self didn’t grasp. Maybe that’s why beginning with the moons is so beautiful.
Central to the work is the instability of what we see, how identity is shaped not only by what is visible, but by what is obscured or misinterpreted. The title’s allusion to partial vision comes through Evie’s growing self-recognition, rendered in language that is both delicate and exacting. Hathorn avoids overt dramatisation, instead trusting the cumulative power of small moments: a shift in tone, an image or character that recurs with altered meaning, from happiness in all of its forms, dreams, time, marriage and divorce, care and los