Gleeful and gorgeous, delighted by puns and other wordplay (including words from French, Latin and Italian), Estes's fast-paced free verse, rich with internal rhyme, takes rightful pride in the beauties it flaunts and explains. Her fourth collection finds, for recurrent motifs, saints' lives, medieval manuscripts, gold leaf and the alphabet: "hearts bloom / out of Ds like lamb chop sleeves / in the script of the fifteenth-century / scribe"; in a gilded Book of Hours, "the letters / have fallen out of the words and lie / scattered on the ground." Each deft poem weaves together multiple topics--some art-historical, others autobiographical--through chains of homonyms and knotty analogies: "Take Cover" skates from the French "couvre feu
, cover the fire" (the origin for our word "curfew") to disheveled bedcovers and 1950s-style duck-and-cover drills. Though Estes revels in European reference (Dante, Trieste, Greta Garbo), her matchless hunger for experience makes her indelibly American: "how the tongue / keeps lapping the world's / loot," she exclaims, "even in the 499th lap / of the Indy 500." The arts--from Cimabue's painting to haute cuisine--are for Estes never mere luxuries; rather, the arts, and our pride in them, give us the only effective countermeasures to loneliness, helplessness and serious pain. And pain--remembered or feared--is always somewhere: "So Near Yet So Far" connects a lunar eclipse, a film starring Fred Astaire and Rita Hayworth, a concept from high-energy plasma physics and "the necklace / of pearls my father bought my mother / for their forty-fifth wedding / anniversary, which she made him / take back."
--Stephen Burt, New York Times Book Review
"Her timing and her ever-inhibited instinct for poetic shape are the triumphs of a first-rate musical intelligence. Angie Estes is Fred Astaire and Ginger too: backwards in high heels, forward on rollerskates, never have classy and sexy been better matched." (Linda Gregerson)