Tuesday, October 29, 2013

blurb part deux

This past winter, after spending some time in and amongst Monkey Ranch's wry intelligent ever so slightly absurd poems, I knew who I wanted to have blurb Stowaway's attempts at same: Canadian but based in San Francisco poet Julie Bruck.

(And then I read her The End of Travel and knew I'd made the right decision.)

I don't know Julie at all, but she was polite and professional when I approached her. And agreed to blurb, which is the most important consideration.

And, nearly three weeks later, this is what she came back with:

"In the closing poem of Stowaways, the surviving pilot of the first fatal plane crash in recorded history receives a small box of debris from the calamity, "to amuse him in his convalescence." What a fitting figure for this collection's loopy juxtapositions and serious surprises. The world in Ariel Gordon's poems is one in which everything and everyone, from a sleep-starved human mother to a miscegenational beluga, is simultaneously endangered and dangerous. If Gordon understands our vulnerability, how "skin is a thin shield," that even a birthday balloon, drifting from the back seat is "a kiss with teeth," she vividly reminds us that those teeth are ours: "If I had had twins," says the new mother in "Primpara," "I would have eaten one." These are nervy poems that refuse to behave themselves. They are something to celebrate." - Julie Bruck

All of which is to say that I'm pleased as punch. Perhaps even a bit punchy. (Loopy juxtapositions! Serious surprises!)

Even though I mistrust bumf at the best of times, I deeply appreciate the opportunity that having the blurb presented: to have a poet I admired that is a stranger to me spend some time considering the work.

Because that's what it's all about. The frustrating-wonderful-bewildering work.

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