| North American Women Poets in the 21st Century: Beyond Lyric and Language Contributor(s): Sewell, Lisa (Editor), Ali, Kazim (Editor) |
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ISBN: 0819579416 ISBN-13: 9780819579416 Publisher: Wesleyan University Press OUR PRICE: $80.75 Product Type: Hardcover - Other Formats Published: February 2020 |
| Additional Information |
| BISAC Categories: - Poetry | Anthologies (multiple Authors) - Poetry | Subjects & Themes - General - Poetry | Women Authors |
| Dewey: 811.609 |
| LCCN: 2019049576 |
| Series: American Poets in the 21st Century |
| Physical Information: 1.5" H x 6.1" W x 9.1" (1.75 lbs) 496 pages |
| Descriptions, Reviews, Etc. |
| Publisher Description: Women poets writing at the intersections of different schools of poetics North American Women Poets in the 21st Century: Beyond Lyric and Language is an important new addition to the American Poets in the 21st Century series. Like the earlier anthologies, this volume includes generous selections of poetry by some of the best poets of our time as well as illuminating poetics statements and incisive essays on their work. Among the insightful pieces included in this volume are essays by Catherine Cucinella on Marilyn Chin, Meg Tyler on Fanny Howe, Elline Lipkin on Alice Notley, Kamran Javadizadeh on Claudia Rankine, and many more. A companion web site will present audio of each poet's work. Calling, Natasha Trethewey Mexico 1969 Why not make a fiction of the mind's fictions? I want to say it begins like this: the trip a pilgrimage, my mother kneeling at the altar of the Black Virgin, enthralled--light streaming in a window, the sun at her back, holy water in a bowl she must have touched. What's left is palimpsest--one memory bleeding into another, overwriting it. How else to explain what remains? The sound of water in a basin I know is white, the sun behind her, light streaming in, her face-- as if she were already dead--blurred as it will become. I want to imagine her beforethe altar, rising to meet us, my father lifting me toward her outstretched arms. What else to make of the mind's slick confabulations? What comes back is the sun's dazzle on a pool's surface, light filtered through water closing over my head, my mother--her body between me and the high sun, a corona of light around her face. Why not call it a vision? What I know is this: I was drowning and saw a dark Madonna; someone pulled me through the water's bright ceiling and I rose, initiate, from one life into another. |