From Publishers Weekly
In describing, in turn, a "Toy House," "Toy Bed" "Toy Enterprise," "Toy Election," "Toy Maternity," and nine separate accounts of "The Voyage of the Beagle," one might think Joyelle McSweeney lacks high seriousness in The Red Bird, selected by Alan Grossman for Fence Books. While certainly playful and relentlessly up to date (check the "Celebrity Cribs" poem), McSweeney's is a satirist's sensibility, wickedly sending up, in "Avian light," the identities and settings her speaker encounters, whether in books, "a maritime chart of the Yensai Delta" or "Afterlives": "Forsythia opens its bright palm and the woman pushes her stroller out of it."
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Review
"American poetry divides into two hostile camps. On one side stand the 'innovative' poets, who trace their lineage to Charles Olson (the poet who probably coined the term postmodernism) and who like to experiment radically--and often rather dryly--with language. On the other are the 'mainstreamers,' who are more interested in emotional connection than theoretical savvy or linguistic play. Innovatives claim that mainstreamers don't think; mainstreamers claim that innovatives don't feel. But this quarrel is beside the point in the work of some of our best young poets. Take Joyelle McSweeney, a 26-year-old with a Harvard degree, two years at Oxford, and an M.F.A. from the University of Iowa's elite Writers' Workshop. Her language is innovative, charged with wit, energy, and surprise, but underneath the surface runs a mysterious current of real emotion... ...If it isn't always clear exactly what's going on in her poems, they have so much glamour and charm that we're led further and further into them--and into poetry itself, which always has been, and always should be, something of a mystery."--Jon Spayde, www.utne.com