To Read & To Write

There is an immediate sense of Lia Purpura's poetic intellectualism presented right within the first page of "All the Fierce Tethers". She begins with an analysis of screaming: what it is and what it is not, what it consists of, its meaning or lack of it. Then Purpura goes right into Edvard Munch's "The Scream". There is much more to this first essay, but already within these two topics she uses Deconstruction as a philosophical tool and then begins to present examples of what Walter Benjamin wrote about in his brilliant, seminal essay, "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction" (i.e. Edvard Munch's "The Scream" reproduced on magnets, on coffee mugs, on blankets. Where does its meaning - as a work of art - go? There is an important *lack* to be understood.) Whether Purpura knew whether or not she was doing what I say she is doing doesn't really matter. It doesn't matter because "All the Fierce Tether

Reminiscent in style of Ludwig Bemelmans' "Madeline" children's books and an obvious source of inspiration for the Broadway musical "CATS", "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats" by T.S. Eliot is a complete riot. I don't know how *practical* the cats presented within these humorous poems really are, but most of them are wizened, playful, and shrewd observers of the world. Eliot's cats are mostly street cats, who are somehow both feral and domesticated at once. Their names (Rumpleteaser and Macavity, to name only two) and doings are very funny, and Edward Gorey's drawings of these cats are even funnier: cats mocking what it is to be human - and - fully clothed. Suffice it to say, "Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats" is a pleasure to read and would be really fun to read out loud too, even to children, if you don't mind the mention of alcohol and some scheming escapades of mischievous cats, including theft. More

Three different groups are presented in this classic comedic play by William Shakespeare. The mortals - which include Theseus, Hippolyta, Egeus, Lysander, Hermia, Demetrius, and Helena - are wrapped up in their own lives, loves, and relationships with one another. Then there is a second group of mortals, but they are actors in the works of putting on a performance/play. These actors are Peter Quince, Nick Bottom, Francis Flute, Snug, Tom Snout, and Robin Starveling. The third group consists of the playful, mischievous fairies: Titania, Robin, Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, Mustardseed, Philostrate, and Oberon. The whole story takes place in the forest - during midsummer - and includes equal parts sleeping, dreaming, and being awake. While the humans discuss their affairs and troubles, the fairies watch in secret and take notes, and, in their true spirit, decide to do a bit of tinkering with regards to the angel of love, Cupid. When the humans, such as Lysander and Hermia, are asleep

In a world of scrolling, where I am constantly reading more of the same, unimpressive, kind but not potent, charming but not soulful stuff, stuck amidst the Lang Leavs, Rupi Kaurs, and Nayyirah Waheeds (sorry, not sorry, in my humble opinion only)... Deborah Landau's small book of poetry, "The Last Usable Hour" struck a resonant, harmonious chord with me. There's not too much to *see* in this book. Her poems are textured emotionally and are sparsely descriptive. Sometimes she seems to be talking to herself ("What the hell do you think you're doing?), at just the tip of a certain kind of madness. She remembers little things people say, just a line or two, or how they seemed ("Across the table his mind right there... behind his talking face") she thinks things to herself that conflict with what is actually happening, she's distracted yet not, sometimes stuck in trains of thought, and always drawn in by desire. What is this desire? It's not

Brilliant, beautiful, sad. With slight sardonic quips and a strong sense for dysfunction, my only complaint is the shrinking of wonder by Sexton’s unveiling of a darker, more painful sense of the martyr’s plight. That may be what Sexton got wrong: that the main character of the fairy-tale is saintly. No, only unknowing, lacking scheme, lacking artifice. Still, the seventeen poems based off of fairy-tales in “Transformations” are brilliant, beautiful, and sad all the same. For all souls who may feel a bit jaded with the world, this one’s for you.