Educated at New York University, Brown University, and the State University of New York at Buffalo, poet Peter Gizzi is the author of several collections of poetry, including Threshold Songs (2011), The Outernationale (2007), and Artificial Heart (1998).
Gizzi uses both narrative and lyrical gestures to engage and question distance and light in his search for the unmapped. Reflecting on the question of whether his work is narrative or lyric, Gizzi stated in an interview with Poetry Daily, “I think I am a narrative poet—I’m just narrating my bewilderment as a citizen.”
Peter Gizzi is one of the most talented poets of our generation as he proves with this sparse, phenomenal collection, "Threshold Songs".
Gizzi's style is dizzying in the same way that a painting beginning to drool is dizzying--his phantom like dissection table of poems, really in no one fixed form, is like reading a chat between a man and Kant's "The Thing In Itself". Example, and my personal favorite:
"A GHOST CARD FOR ROBERT"
What do you see when you see a dress sounding in deep indigo, a head made of text, a paper halo torn about the head.
What do you see when you see the shape of a hare and a galaxy, a river and some rushes, when you see the outline of the hare and its positive adrift.
What do you see when you read left to right, a cartoon boy on a cartoon lawn, arms outstretched, when you see the word SUN in block capitals over there, a shaft of whiteout above the hare leaping into an unked heart into a ghost boy into a green ray into space.
You'll see the read and blue shift, you'll see orbiting patterns, and now you see a woman buried in sepia with child."
This is verbal wizardry at it's highest, recalling Wallace Stevens at his most obscure and most brilliant, and Hart Crane at his best. One could too easily categorize this as "conceptual poetry"--I think that pigeonholes what Gizzi has accomplished here. It is a manifesto of sensory deprivation and acclimation, a waterboarding of complacency, a pyrotechnic show of prosody--all that and more. Absolutely recommended to any lover of poetry.
quite pleased, although I only grabbed a copy on a random whim. I have a copy of my vocabulary did this to me but haven't ever really read gizzi's work other than "gray sails" in perloff's "poetry on the brink." "gray sails" is certainly a highlight, alongside "a note on the text," "apocrypha," "tradition & the indivisible talent," and "true discourse on power."
I like the voice and aesthetic that gizzi cultivates throughout the book, am very fond of it, though I find it missing a certain energy at times. it isn't a callow voice, but one tempered and slowed in some ways by its temperance where it might otherwise dance lightly. think sherilyn fenn swinging her hips in twin peaks, voices whispering in the dark like the beckett epigraph (my guess was ill seen, ill said, but apparently it's company; fitting). naturally, perloff's claim is that this is due to it being "poetry on the brink."
there are a lot of things going on in the book, and most of them interesting. "pinnochio's gnosis" is probably the closest i've ever seen someone come to something that wouldn't appear too out of place in the tennis court oath, which is basically commendable, but I'd say I enjoyed it a bit more.
Drawing from past traditions of minimalism and Language Poetry, Gizzi takes the unfamiliar to open readers to new ways of looking at the world. In that nonfailing light, Gizzi takes us to the threshold, the edge, the opening into a world only he can provide us. The difference between Gizzi and his poetry is a line he deliberately obscures, and the crispness of his imagery fuses with natural qualities so completely that we see the work of genius in process. Process, as well, is an important word to remember while reading this poet's work, mainly because his poems refrain from solid reality into a sort of processional quality that advents the sacred. I highly recommend this book to poets who are looking for something beyond the quotidian imagery many poets continue to utilize.
Abstract, beautifully lyrical reflections on the wonderment in the everyday and on the borders we cross over: life to death, the understood to the unknown. Gizzi poses questions with answers that can often only be siphoned through experience. He asks readers to step back and observe the world surrounding them, capturing specific moments too easily overlooked. These *are* songs-songs of amazement and of appreciation, songs of despair and discontent seasoned with humor that surprised me and made me laugh right out loud. There's a certain alchemy coursing it's way through these poems. I am glad I purchased this book because I am sure I will return to it often. I already have.
Hey shadow world when a thing comes back comes back unseen but felt and no longer itself what then what silver world mirrors tarnished lenses what fortune what fate and the forms not themselves but only itself the sky by water and wind shaken I am born in silvered dark
Sometimes these poems leave me suspended or baffled, not always able to follow the leaps leapt or to find grounding in the spaces opened between words, lines, and thoughts, but I enjoy Peter Gizzi's poems very much nonetheless. I admire this mind working, puzzling, figuring out, or simply being certain in its uncertainty. And the closing poem, "Modern Adventures at Sea," knocks me out.
These poems surprised me with glints of absolute glaring truth. They made me cry. So many of the poems are beautiful in their entirety. A favorite collection of mine.
Gizzi touches me with his exploration of the string that joy and grief are constantly tethered too. Gizzi talks about the inevitability of death, but also remembering the happy moments of our loved ones when they face death. Throughout the book, Gizzi expresses many moments and instances of joy he’s felt with one he’s lost, but poses a question that remains unanswered by many: how do we learn to live without our loved ones, and does life ever mean the same to us?