Customer Reviews

Fifty Poems

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I believe the previous review represents a collection of old ideas in response to new forms. Of course, we are still living in an age when narrative poetry maintains its place on the pedestal as the "highest" form of poetry, everything else finding its place in the hierarchy somewhere beneath. For good or ill, there is more value placed on some forms than others; we can look at the national poet laureates of the last ten years as evidence of this (Billy Collins, Louise Gluck, Donald Hall, Charles Simic, and so on). I am saying this only to emphasize that our standards for language may be skewed, that we, as readers, may be spoiled by "accessible" poetry, unwilling to dig and decipher or allow new forms to pull us in new directions. Of course, innovation in language is always greeted with a certain degree of close-mindedness (something of which, I'm sure the author of this work is aware), but I regard the dismissal of this book as a tragically missed opportunity, and it seems that the prior reviewer misunderstood not only how the poems should be read, but the complex nature of the poems themselves.

I use the word "complex," because Poetvet seems to think the writing of these poems an extremely simple, easy task, something that anyone could have done with the aid of "a good thesaurus and the OED." First of all, yes the poems are "short," but their smallness is not even what we would think of as concision. It is intricate and eloquent, the weaving of a very complex, tightly connected, and infinitesimal web, or like a painting of a landscape transcribed in meticulous detail onto a grain of rice -- all the better to be seen with fresh, precise, miniscule brushstrokes. And although, at first, it may be difficult to recognize, to translate what is meant by the tiny lines, it is worth the effort to train the naked eye to recognize the image and receive it. And with each fresh reading of the poem, and the differing perspectives of its readers, something else will be unearthed, learned, reflected back between the eye and the subject, between the word and the self.

To look deeply and thoroughly at these poems is its own reward. The patience of the reader will be rewarded again and again, a million times over, with fresh discoveries. This is NOT a work that could have been written in a day. The more I read of this book, the more I was convinced that, if each poem is constructed of merely 8 words, then this is the only combination of 8 words suited to this image or emotion, or the author's state of mind. There is a feeling of immense paring down, as if every other word in the English language were passed over, found unsuitable, and these 8 words (or however many the case may be) were chosen, combined, married to reflect a completely unique, one-of-a-kind perspective. It makes the reader question, not only the meaning behind each syllable, but their various shapes and sounds as well. The reading of this work is completely sensory; the poems are both densely auditory and articulately visual. Everything within the lines contributes to that landscape, infinitely small yet containing within it an infinity of reflections in which each word adds something new. It is like a water droplet containing whole worlds of unseen organisms. Each poem continues to reveal a new microcosm with each fresh reading. I urge everyone to read this work with a tuned ear and an open mind. In conclusion, this book is an absolute treasure; there is not another like it anywhere.

What I love about this book is the way it rebels against established, mainstream traditions in contemporary American poetry. Quill's little poems are moments captured, things to think with, and about. A great debut, and a must-have for fans of Cole Swensen, Lisa Fishman, Hejinian and the like. This is a great book for those who think they hate poetry; Quill's poems challenge the boundaries of what a poem is, what it can be, and Fifty Poems just might convert some new readers to poetry.

By far one of the most unique collections of poetry I'ved read over the last few years, refreshing and challenging
and beautiful and disarming, all at once. Buy this book: immediately.

I have to admit, I generally don't like "language" poetry, so take this review as you may... Some tolerable images and some ok moments overall, so I can see that Quill may have some talent in her somewhere. Unfortunately, this doesn't show it. I get what Quill is doing here, paring down language and meaning to the very marrow so that each poem sings it's own metallic melody--however, this first book could be written in a day, accompanied by a good thesaurus and the OED (this is a collection of fifty poems of about 8 words each). Try for a moment to forget that this isn't just a poetry collection, but an actual contest winner, and it is even more mind-boggling that this was ever published. I blame the press and the judge for putting Quill into print too early in her career--obviously an effort to see if they could discover the new "darling" of poetry. Sadly, not even close, and I hope Quill fights the tendency to stick to this as her signature style in the future.