As her title suggests, Susan Hutton’s poems are about vanishing―not disappearances, exactly, but the way anything can appear lost when it becomes something else. Moving deftly from Houdini to the backyard, from Euclid’s proofs to an inexplicable suicide, Hutton’s poems are about finding, collecting, and saving, are themselves dazzling little assemblages of the ordinary and the incredible, one inside the other. They are lovely, mysterious, and rewarding.
I first picked up this collection because the author is a graduate of UM's MFA program and resides in Ann Arbor. It soon became one of my favorites. Hutton's debut is filled with poems that draw from a broad intellectual tradition and yet are grounded in the personal details of daily life. Like any good book, it challenges me to be a better writer.
I hope that "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" comes to mind while reading the following attempt to imitate Hutton's style.
EVENT HORIZON
Schwarzschild’s solutions to Einstein’s equations showed that some black holes were spinless, perfectly spherical and, therefore, could be identical, twins as long as their masses were equal.
Gastropods have no ears but most of them can at least sense light and dark, can learn something about their world.
My mother discovered my chickenpox because I whined, “There’s something in my eye” all day.
We sit on cool grass together knowing she also will attend, but when we witness her arrival, only sightlines adjust hyperbolically. New postures but no motivation.
The yard’s northeast corner is exactly this lush. Their paper plates and plastic cups teeter. They sit just as cross-legged— just as long. Red wine, fruit, summer conversation. A decade?
Once we hadn’t met again, we must have said our goodbyes. My blueprint for a lifetime of awkwardnesses at parties. Greetings. Silence. Apologies.
Susan Hutton's On the Vanishing of Large Creatures won our eighteenth annual John C. Zacharis First Book Award. The award honors the best debut book by a Ploughshares writer, alternating between poetry and fiction.
Now this one *did* "hit" me. Much moreso than other books of poetry I have read recently.
There is a quiet mixture of desperation and hope in these delicious lines. To use a very overused adjective, I would say that the whole collection is haunting.
Absolutely fantastic poetry. Can't wait to read more from her.