In Libreria
Sinossi
Quella di Jorie Graham è una delle voci poetiche più importanti e significative dei nostri giorni. L’uscita di ogni suo libro è sempre, immancabilmente, un evento. In questa nuova raccolta – la più personale, coinvolgente e innovativa – Graham esplora i limiti dell’umano e le inquietanti seduzioni del post-umano. Evocando una varietà di voci e prospettive diverse – dalla sacra sindone ai fondali oceanici – questi testi danno forma e urgenza alla sempre più rapida trasformazione da cui è investito il pianeta: tra cyber-vita, «vita» stampata in 3D, vita dopo la morte, vita biologicamente, chimicamente ed elettronicamente modificata, fast getta luce sulla nostra esistenza, sulla nostra individualità e su una civiltà che sembra correre veloce verso la sua implosione.
- ISBN: 8811607671
- Casa Editrice: Garzanti
- Pagine: 288
- Data di uscita: 19-09-2019
Recensioni
Graham's hallmarks are here: complexity, stream-of-consciousness, and philosophical rumination. The inhuman and death become focal points--which makes some sense given that Graham was recovering from a cancer diagnosis at the time it was written. The variety of speakers can be dizzying here: Graham
Complexity in writing in all ways. This is going to be a book to indulge over time. I am overwhelmed by the range, variety, and rage.
Always interesting, always willing to try new things. Maybe not quite as good as her major period but still working away, resistant.
Damned good poetry, difficult as hell, but rich and vital and urgent. I finished the last poem MOTHER'S HANDS DRAWING ME listening to Public Image Ltd. and it made the cruelest sense. A kind of rage and nihilism seemed to erupt from the this final work that suggested she has some inkling of the fina Leggi tutto
Rating: 2 STARS 2017; Ecco/HarperCollins (Review Not on Blog) I cannot get into this poetry style so it was hard for me to read. I love free style and storytelling but this was hard to feel any emotion to. ***I received an eARC from EDELWEISS***
Very challenging, but rewarding and almost oppressively effective in its portrayal of the psychic weight of loss.
Fast was a dense and unusual book of poems. Not nearly so difficult as some of the experimental verse I've been reading recently, it still was characterized by a kind of obliqueness and formal inventiveness. Many poems shuttled between verse and prose, long lines and short lines; some had arrows in
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