The first new collection of poetry from Roo Borson since her highly acclaimed collection Short Journey Upriver Toward Oishida, winner of three major prizes, including the Griffin Poetry Prize. Roo Borson's new collection continues the exploration of form, tone, musicality, and content begun in her widely acclaimed previous collection. Here, co-existing peacefully, are the river stone, painted white, that greets the visitor to the grave of the poet James K. Baxter in the far back country of New Zealand's Wanganui River; the Beijing night sky, turned apricot by the smog and full moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival; the crypts of Toronto's Mount Pleasant Cemetery, seen as potential living spaces; an old friend speaking "knowledgeably, reverentially, and at the same time light-heartedly, in this way gradually restoring significance to the world." By turns wry and ecstatic, droll and elegiac, quizzical and contemplative, this is a major new work by one of our most singular and compelling poets.
A captivating and poignant new collection of poetry from Griffin Poetry Prize winner Roo Borson that probes some of our most important questions. After Roo Borson's two previous collections -- Short Journey Upriver Toward Oishida and Rain; road; an open boat -- set the seasons in motion, focusing the poet's mind on time, mortality, transience, and absence, Cardinal in the Eastern White Cedar arrives to complete the triptych. From the glittering, classically rendered image to a freighted, lucid, narrative line, Borson's voice can shift and refract while holding true to the momentary facts of the shifting, given world. Her meditations are a kind of fidelity to inquiry, to attachment, to what can't be fully known. Here the distant past collides with the near future, the present opens suddenly into another age, and friendship becomes the measure of time's salience. These poems depict what vanishes, the various modest homes where half-remembered lives all flow toward their common end. Roo Borson has crowned a sustained achievement with a work of startling intimacy and vividness.
A piece of paper with writing on it is flat, but when what is written on that paper fills the mind of a reader, it takes off into the wind like a box kite on a windy day," writes Baziju — the shared voice of poets Roo Borson and Kim Maltman. This exquisite, collaboratively written sequence of prose poems, unfolding through rich, delicate imagery, journeys through streets and gardens, houses and temples, cities and countryside, Canada and China. It is a meditation on the way we travel between places and between times, and how words and ideas travel between languages. Baziju explores the literature of China, from centuries past to the present, exploring, at the same time, the meaning of hope and of home: childhood homes, the homes we grow into, and the homes in our minds. In Lu Xun's classic story "My Old Home," the hero returns from a distant city to the home he left two decades earlier. Hope, he ponders, "is just like the roads of the earth... . [T]o begin with the earth has no roads, but where many people pass, there a road is made." These sensual, deeply personal prose poems ponder change, loss, friendship, and belonging. In a life in which every detail has significance, the smallest observation grows, and spreads like the branches of wisteria.
A captivating and poignant new collection of poetry from Griffin Poetry Prize winner Roo Borson that probes some of our most important questions. After Roo Borson's two previous collections -- Short Journey Upriver Toward Oishida and Rain; road; an open boat -- set the seasons in motion, focusing the poet's mind on time, mortality, transience, and absence, Cardinal in the Eastern White Cedar arrives to complete the triptych. From the glittering, classically rendered image to a freighted, lucid, narrative line, Borson's voice can shift and refract while holding true to the momentary facts of the shifting, given world. Her meditations are a kind of fidelity to inquiry, to attachment, to what can't be fully known. Here the distant past collides with the near future, the present opens suddenly into another age, and friendship becomes the measure of time's salience. These poems depict what vanishes, the various modest homes where half-remembered lives all flow toward their common end. Roo Borson has crowned a sustained achievement with a work of startling intimacy and vividness.
A piece of paper with writing on it is flat, but when what is written on that paper fills the mind of a reader, it takes off into the wind like a box kite on a windy day," writes Baziju — the shared voice of poets Roo Borson and Kim Maltman. This exquisite, collaboratively written sequence of prose poems, unfolding through rich, delicate imagery, journeys through streets and gardens, houses and temples, cities and countryside, Canada and China. It is a meditation on the way we travel between places and between times, and how words and ideas travel between languages. Baziju explores the literature of China, from centuries past to the present, exploring, at the same time, the meaning of hope and of home: childhood homes, the homes we grow into, and the homes in our minds. In Lu Xun's classic story "My Old Home," the hero returns from a distant city to the home he left two decades earlier. Hope, he ponders, "is just like the roads of the earth... . [T]o begin with the earth has no roads, but where many people pass, there a road is made." These sensual, deeply personal prose poems ponder change, loss, friendship, and belonging. In a life in which every detail has significance, the smallest observation grows, and spreads like the branches of wisteria.
The first new collection of poetry from Roo Borson since her highly acclaimed collection Short Journey Upriver Toward Oishida, winner of three major prizes, including the Griffin Poetry Prize. Roo Borson's new collection continues the exploration of form, tone, musicality, and content begun in her widely acclaimed previous collection. Here, co-existing peacefully, are the river stone, painted white, that greets the visitor to the grave of the poet James K. Baxter in the far back country of New Zealand's Wanganui River; the Beijing night sky, turned apricot by the smog and full moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival; the crypts of Toronto's Mount Pleasant Cemetery, seen as potential living spaces; an old friend speaking "knowledgeably, reverentially, and at the same time light-heartedly, in this way gradually restoring significance to the world." By turns wry and ecstatic, droll and elegiac, quizzical and contemplative, this is a major new work by one of our most singular and compelling poets.
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