Will poetry save us from our present circumstance of hell? Of course not. Yet it feels like it will, which is why, despite knowing better, poets persist in writing it.
Heim holds fast to the clarity and blur of spacetime in the imagination, and she describes one dimension in terms of another, à la the Theory of Relativity
99 River Street – both the film and the critical reaction to it – serves to encapsulate the various strategies that we’ve seen deployed in the backlash to the Me Too movement – from denial to willed blindness to mockery.
What if there is a great distance between an author’s real life and the way it’s represented on the page? What kind of accountability, if that’s the case, should the reader expect from the author?