As a reader and a writer, I have been striving to liberate myself from the literal, the grounded, and the logical. Toward this end, I've been exploring experimental poetry, and in this quest I was most fortunate to discover Valerie Fox's enchanting new collection The Glass Book. --
From Lynn Levin's review in Rattle.
"Marginalia" figures big in Valerie Fox's new collection...Who wouldn't want to peruse the thumbed notebooks of Descartes or Diderot?
Breaking away from her leading lady's vexing circumstances, Fox inserts herself into her mini-novella "movie treatment."...With "the sound of the bus" adding just enough atmosphere, Fox's lists are listings pass "the animated tests of prophesy."--Jeffrey Cyphers Wright in The Brooklyn Rail.
From the Inside Flap
Fox ends The Glass Book poem, the longest one here, with the line, 'what's that alive in her hand?' and I had to ask that question again and again through this book: what is this in my hand? Fox speaks about and to the book as if it were something more than just text, and the book, in turn talks to us, the readers as if it is something alive, fluid, shifting and beating. In each piece, a strong awareness of writing and literacy both gives way to and coincides with borrowed language--especially the language of education, textbooks, artifacts of learning--and the unconscious logic of dreams. Fox's work is nonetheless quite grounded and concrete--the images are specific and funny and shocking and vivid; a world created from buses and street signs and nuns and poor music teachers and movies and train tracks and discos: nearly all the signs of urban contemporary life. Above it all is a steady hand, in complete control of the language, playing with it, making it not noly new, but surprisingly funny, like you're reading something familiar you've never heard before, surely someone had figured out how to put these words together in this way before; it's so right, it's so natural.--Christine Hamm