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Where's the Moon, There's the Moon: Poems Hardcover – February 2, 2010

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Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

Starred Review. In his third book, Chiasson continues his exploration of the places where older high culture meets contemporary culture, both high and popular. In this case, his poems quote from or mirror works by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Emily Dickinson, and Henry David Thoreau, among others; the long title poem is centered around the classic children's story Sylvester and the Magic Pebble. The book explores fatherhood—both in terms of Chiasson's own father and his children. In the title poem, a story read to his children illuminates my father's distance and yet the tendency of distant things/ to become central. Distance and death are ever-present, as in the book's first poem: Here follows the phone number of a dead person, writes Chiasson. A series of short, aphoristic pieces at the book's conclusion tries to stave off endings through hide and seek: the magic trick/ of keeping time in play by yo-yo/ mini-episodes of loss and recovery. In between are poems of formal variety and accessible speech that are equal parts mournful and hopeful: If you surround yourself with sadness, you seem happy, reads a line from Monitor; Roman Song offers another note: Let everything you eat be your good food. (Mar.)
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“These poems refract the sober realities of middle age, in particular the joys and anxieties of fatherhood and grief at the deaths of friends or parents.”—The New York Review of Books

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Product Details

  • Hardcover: 88 pages
  • Publisher: Knopf; First Edition edition (February 2, 2010)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0307272176
  • ISBN-13: 978-0307272171
  • Product Dimensions: 6.2 x 0.5 x 8.7 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 9.1 ounces
  • Average Customer Review: 4.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (1 customer review)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #3,031,258 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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Format: Hardcover
Chiasson is a brilliant critical mind, and there may be a tendency to dismiss his work as a poet out of envy of a plethora of gifts -- that is, simply because he is such a successful academic (Professor at Wellesley) and critic. However, this would be a mistake. I have found this book difficult to get into. Its style is plainspoken, sometimes cartoonish, like a painting by Philip Guston. On a first reading, it is easy to feel underwhelmed. But there is an emotional undertow that wells up, and may catch the patient reader unawares. Capering on the surface cannot disguise genuine feeling underneath. The feeling in question is not pure, however, but complex, almost queasily so, and all the more powerful for it. In hindsight -- that is to say, upon re-reading -- it transmutes the rough simplicity -- even crudity -- of the verbal surface into something raw and palpitant. Chiasson accomplishes the paradox of a blunt instrument that sings. I am very much looking forward to his next book of poems.
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