Chicago Review

An international journal of literature, interviews, and reviews. For academic audiences.

Articles from Vol. 51, No. 3, Autumn

All Poets Welcome: The Lower East Side Poetry Scene in the 1960s
§ Daniel Kane. All Poets Welcome: The Lower East Side Poetry Scene in the 1960s. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003. 306 pp. $27.50Emphasizing the public performance of poetry at such now-legendary forums as St. Mark's Church and Le Metro,...
An Essay in Asterisks
Jena Osman. An Essay in Asterisks. New York: Roof, 2004. 101 pp. $12.95Calling Jena Osman's new book poetry is like calling Marcel Duchamp's ready-mades sculpture: the work's relationship to its medium is arbitrary. In An Essay in Asterisks, poetry is...
Chinese Letter
Svetislav Basara. Chinese Letter. Normal: Dalkey Archive Press, 2004. 180 pp. $12.95Serbian author Svetislav Basara's Chinese Letter is, first and foremost, a comic novel. It opens with the narrator (who isn't exactly sure who he is, but calls himself...
Dome
At times in the sloppiness of those days, with cigarette ashes and spilled drinks gumming the table in the Butterfly Arcade and the alarmed or disgusted proprietor hovering and sizzling vectors of living energy making a whirling constellation of our...
Facts for Visitors
§ Srikanth Reddy. Facts for Visitors. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004.62pp. $16.95.Srikanth Reddy's debut collection, Facts for Visitors, opens with an epigraph from Augustine's Confessions: "To Carthage then I came..." Reddy borrows from...
Filzbad
In an empty hall, its walls a dark olive color, almost brown, Merek Ezgysy takes out her notebook and writes: "Ignore brown/olive"There had been no one to meet her at the station, though the letter had expressly mentioned a cart and someone named Fritzsche....
From AN ICON OF THE MOUTH
THEOTOKOS HODIGITRIASt Symeon of Heliopolis wrote:Iris and digitaria soothe a dire age; balm of eucalyptus wrapped in cotton cloth and worn around my neck as a votive make fragrant reminder of my weakness.THE TRANSFIGURATIONIt is related among Coptic...
Intermission
The silence wasn't independent and distinct; it was an abyss at the foot of the last explosion, as steep as a mountain that touched the sky. We were falling in that bottomless abyss, silently like into a dream, uncertain if the bombardment had already...
Leaves of Root
part 4 of Leaves of FieldiThe field shingled in leaf, lap-over is pulse or switch-out along branch poling insurrectionary root. As if a "third" leaf in each overlap series is perfect for reefing off, the seedling aura that is lightly covered soil about...
Montale in English
Montale in English. Edited by Harry Thomas. New York: Handsel Books, 2005. 247pp. $17Eugenic Montale once wrote that what interested him most in art was its "second life," by which he meant the moment of "common consumption and misunderstanding" when...
Notes
Our world the world of colors is the world. -Julian Beck"Can you describe this. /1 cannot." References (in the negative) Anna Akhmatova's "Instead of a Preface" from Requiem."the national feelinglessness" is an expression of Julian Beck's. It appears...
The Blue Notebook
Daniil Kharms. The Blue Notebook. Translated by Matvei Yankelevich. Brooklyn: Ugly Duckling Presse, 2005. 24 pp. $5In 1931, Daniil Kharms and Aleksandr Vvedensky, the leaders of the Russian Absurdist OBERIU group (Association of Real Art), found themselves...
The Lightning Field
§ Carol Moldaw. The Lightning Field. Oberlin: Oberlin College Press, 2003. 69pp. $14.95The eponymous sixteen-poem centerpiece of Carol Moldaw's The Lightning Field is remarkable in its ability to capture what it is to be a being in space. Some context...
They Don't Ring at the Bernardines'
The downpour caught me in the dead center of 20th of February Square. Not having an umbrella, I took a shortcut straight to the Bernardines'. In the slanting streams of rain, the church bent all the perpendiculars of its facade, wet pigeons slumped in...
Waiting for the Dog to Sleep
I'm in an old doghouse, cramped up, my knees touching my chin. Through the gaps in the planks I see an expansive square, empty as far as the saplings bordering it. This used to be my village. Yesterday was the end of the demolition, the last hut was...
Window to the World
The unweeded garden of frost has overgrown the window, and from behind the thickets of white greenery nothing can be seen. Yet all the same I must stay on the lookout, not lose sight of the world... Not at any cost. My vigilance, therefore, is in my...
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