Customer Reviews

As for Dream

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I highly recommend the new book of poems, As for Dream by Saskia Hamilton. Hamilton rethinks how we compensate for finality--in physical death, loss, and even in unrequited love. These poems show how we modify and dissolve absolutes. The last poem of As for Dream, "The First Evening" illustrates Ms. Hamilton's dexterity in wheedling the richness of meaning out of an economy of words. "What was to come?/There was a plank between my shoulder blades/ leaning against the wall inside of me, waiting to be put to use by the workmen/ who come at six and work until three." Once read, the line speaks of a rest before being put to bodily work, then, the potential exchange of pining for fulfillment, and finally, the easy defeat of hope by time.

I'd be the first to congratulate Hamilton on editing Robert Lowell's letters, both efficiently and gracefully, and also for her fine taste in cover art with this book (Francesca's "The Dream of Constantine"); however, neither of these masks the fact that the woman, though she tries hard, cannot write poetry. Each of the three parts of this triptych resonate with examples of depravity, angst, and oblivion...yay, yet another 'doom and gloom' poet milled from some prestigious graduate program, out to capitalize on the fact that the human condition is corruptible and ultimately pathetic. What's worse, the poems are so small that there isn't enough time to get into them, so they feel forcefully rushed. Worst of all is the white space issue: now I'm not against experimentation, even the most extreme of Dadaist revolutionary poetics, but we're talking here about a book wrought of wood from trees on which the human race depends on to contribute oxygen for our breathable atmosphere. Now if it were a book of Paul Celan's or Vasko Popa's stuff, I could understand (as both have the same condensed syntax as does Hamilton), but Hamilton herself cannot compete to make this sacrifice of trees conscienable. Better luck next time.

Partially its the oversized book, but there is a feeling of too much white space on nearly every page. I like what is here, but too many of her poems in this collection feel rushed and often incomplete or not taken as far as they could be taken. I want half my money back.