From Publishers Weekly
Bogen (The Splendid Display, 1986) works on a wide canvas, depicting past eras (in moments) to suggest illuminations for the present, as in the opening poem "Slum Corner": "On Vine Street the Dickensian splendor/ of the Omega Plasma Center./ Here are your eccentrics, your waifs/ in dangling mufflers and too-short topcoats/... bees drained twice a week/ of their dense honey." In his effort to establish the presence of the past, Bogen's detailed portrayals focus as much on surroundings as on people. Amid the columns, mirrors and misty fountains of "The Palace at Granada," the past "...blooms/ in a geometric/ ceiling, enlivens/ a door frame..." while in the dusty old-world auberge of "A Waiting Room in Vienna," amid a "spread of things, stolid, hierarchical," he observes that "time blurs its edge." The concreteness is invigorating, but Bogen's unchanging stance and tendency to declare meaning can dull the reading. "Salver" examines a bone china tray, rimmed in gold: "preserved, it will preserve," Bogen teaches us, and adds "completed, it will outlast us." The long title poem, which sensuously conjures up the 19th century, is burdened with abstractions about imperialism and suffering; immediacy is further blunted when punctuation is called upon to clarify irony, as in the phrase, "the `dark' continent." Bogen's need to explain and conclude diminishes the native tension of his clear-eyed observations.
Copyright 1997 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
At best frustrating, Bogen's second volume of poetry (following After the Splendid Display, Univ. Pr. of New England, 1986) begins with the dictum that has formed the core of modern poetry: "no ideas but in things." But the things he chooses could not be further from the daily objects of modern life William Carlos Williams had in mind. Despite so much concreteness, there's very little here for readers to grab hold of. The 19th century, the setting for most of the poems, is romanticized: "He is a true barbarian" or "The miner's hearthchair/ was sacred." Those few poems that take place in the late 20th century seem to mock our inventions. On the book's final page things begin falling into place; the objects of Bogen's choosing are intended to be "New masks to mirror/ the past seen in the present/ which is a mirror/ of the past, masked and hence exotic." Wordplay such as this is random. And since most poems carry little or no lyric weight, there is little to recommend?except perhaps for literary historians.?Rochelle Ratner, formerly with "Soho Weekly News," New York
Copyright 1997 Reed Business Information, Inc.