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Not To Paperback – August 30, 2006


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Editorial Reviews

Review

"Like the sports photographer in her poem of that name, Elaine Terranova 'has a feel for finishes,' for the beautiful crafting of language that makes even the darkest things shine, and for slowing 'the speed at the end of the race / so that the runners appear to bloom / into a wide, deserved sleep.' In the tranced quiet of these haunting poems can be heard the 'cricket pulse' of time's anchorites, 'our backs to the outside,' as the literal opens like a wound to the magic lantern of the interior. This is intimate, sensitive, and brave poetry, tracing the damages with a care whose exactitude honors what suffers within." - Eleanor Wilner"

Review

“Like the sports photographer in her poem of that name, Elaine Terranova 'has a feel for finishes,' for the beautiful crafting of language that makes even the darkest things shine, and for slowing 'the speed at the end of the race / so that the runners appear to bloom / into a wide, deserved sleep.' In the tranced quiet of these haunting poems can be heard the 'cricket pulse' of time's anchorites, 'our backs to the outside,' as the literal opens like a wound to the magic lantern of the interior. This is intimate, sensitive, and brave poetry, tracing the damages with a care whose exactitude honors what suffers within.” (Eleanor Wilner)

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