Translation, for me, must be embodied to be fully realized, capturing not only signification but also resonance, mouthfeel. This poem numbers among the handful Oppenheim wrote in French and then translated herself into German. Tout est si calme. The vowel and consonantal sounds both soothe and delineate. Here, I chose to avoid the descriptive clumsiness of “everything is calm” and instead create a four-syllable echo of that wave of vowels contained by consonants. Stillness abounds.
Kathleen Heil on "[The forest and fields are no longer visible, nearly,]" |
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A Review of Jorie Graham's To 2040
"Graham’s latest collection, To 2040 (Copper Canyon Press, 2023), also grapples with the concerns of digital infiltration and environmental loss, although it is distinctly embroiled in the prophetic impulse of post-calamitous worldbuilding. Graham’s speakers undulate in the stark maelstrom of bodily loss and evasion, awash with disorientation."
via THE ADROIT JOURNAL |
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What Sparks Poetry:
Michael Joseph Walsh on Sara Nicholson's April
"Maybe what Nature and Art have in common is their amenability to being read—the fact that both can be the object of lectio divina, the contemplation of the 'living word.' In April the gods have left us, but Nature, like poetry, is being written, and can be read. The world is a poem, or a painting, and a poem, in turn, is the world, or at least a world (an 'imaginary garden with real toads in [it],' if you will)." |
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