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teeth crown in Wilmington DE Vanitas, Rough: Poems by Lisa Russ Spaar | 9780892554201 | Paperback | Barnes & Noble
“Spaar sounds like no other poet writing today.”Jennifer Chang, The BelieverWith her trademark languagebaroque yet colloquial, immediately recognizable but impossible to duplicateLisa Russ Spaar has written her most sumptuous, alluring, and steamy poems to date, each one bursting with an appetite for the sensuous and the lingual.…
“Spaar sounds like no other poet writing today.”Jennifer Chang, The BelieverWith her trademark languagebaroque yet colloquial, immediately recognizable but impossible to duplicateLisa Russ Spaar has written her most sumptuous, alluring, and steamy poems to date, each one bursting with an appetite for the sensuous and the lingual. “Is syntax erotic?” she asks in Vanitas, Rough. “If so, please. Please read. Here.”
Spaar, known for unveiling erotic lyricism in the quotidian, has been likened to Dickinson and Hopkins, and in this fourth book, her linguistic mastery continues, conveying the rapture—and hilarity—that can occur in suburban stillness. Here, where the overheard shouts of co-eds conjure absurd humor against “the gasp/ of their fathers’ beer cans opening in porch shadows,” where “any held breath is wish for something/ to happen,” desire is existential. “What doesn’t love/ restraint?” these poems ask, while brimming with anticipation and urgency, and touched with wit, working to question the world’s rough beauty and transience: “Apricot pendulum lyre ticking// in the locust, blue fieldstones/ of the crumbling fence, old crush// on the world whose beauty I’ve always feared/ to see directly—will that leave me, too,// despite years that never brought me the weightless/ grace I thought I’d become for myself, or anyone?” Sequence still central to Spaar’s work, the familiar becomes holy in a new series of saint poems, named, St. Protagonist, St. Chardonnay, St. Brontë, St. Vogue. Informed by past masters and contemporary moments, Spaar’s work aims to uncover for us what of the world’s ecstatic lushness we might have missed: “Dear Reader,” Spaar writes, “one wonder/ speaks of another.” (Dec.)
“Lisa Russ Spaar's intensely lyrical languagebaroque, incantatory, provocativeenables her to reinvigorate perennial subject matter ... Too ambitious and sensitive to settle for the merely gorgeous, Vanitas, Rough wrestles productively with its inspirations and itself, offering an electrifying glimpse of an omnivorous mind in the throes of creative activity.”
"To touch its truth I punched my fist/ into the chopped molest// the boscage—withdrew my red sleeve.// Abstract that." If Carole Weinstein Poetry Prize winner Spaar's wordplay overwhelms, just relax and luxuriate in the language—rich, sensuous, dizzying, lustrous, baroque as "the palace's candied gold"—as it delivers an ineffable sense of mood, of being indisputably in the world.—BH