An edition of Space, in Chains (2011)

Space, in Chains

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Last edited by ImportBot
August 15, 2020 | History
An edition of Space, in Chains (2011)

Space, in Chains

  • 3 Want to read

"Space, in Chains speaks in ghostly voices, fractured narratives, songs, prayers, and dark riddles as it moves through contemporary tragedies of grief and the complex succession of generations. In her eighth book of poetry, Laura Kasischke has pared the construction of her verse to its bones, leaving haunting language and a visceral strangeness of imagery. by turns mournful and celebratory, Kasischke's poetry insists upon asking hard questions that are courageously left unanswered."--Page 4 of cover.

Publish Date
Language
English
Pages
110

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Previews available in: English

Edition Availability
Cover of: Space, in Chains
Space, in Chains
March 15, 2011, Copper Canyon Press
in English

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Book Details


Edition Notes

Published in
Port Townsend, USA
Series
Lannan Literary Selections

Classifications

Library of Congress
PS3561.A6993S63 2011, PS3561.A6993 S63 2011

The Physical Object

Number of pages
110
Dimensions
8.9 x 6 x .4 inches

Edition Identifiers

Open Library
OL24629161M
ISBN 10
1556593333
ISBN 13
9781556593338
LCCN
2010040037
OCLC/WorldCat
666406263
Goodreads
10137691

Work Identifiers

Work ID
OL15705482W

Work Description

Laura Kasischke's poems have the same haunting qualities and truth as our most potent memories and dreams. Through ghostly voices, fragmented narratives, overheard conversations, songs, and prayers in language reminiscent of medieval lyrics converted into contemporary idiom, the poems in Space, In Chains create a visceral strangeness true to its own music.

So we found ourselves in an ancient place, the very air around us bound by chains. There was stagnant water in which lightning was reflected, like desperation in a dying eye. Like science. Like a dull rock plummeting through space, tossing off flowers and veils, like a bride. And

also the subway. Speed under ground. And the way each body in the room appeared to be a jar of wasps and flies that day—but, enchanted, like frightened children's laughter.

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