Call Yourself Alive?

by Nina Cassian

Cassian is an international writer, now resident in the U.S. where she sought political asylum. She is well known for the vigor, sensuality and savagery of her work.

Genres: Poetry

80 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1988

About the author

Nina Cassian (pen name of Renée Annie Cassian-Mătăsaru) was a Romanian poet, children's book writer, translator, journalist, accomplished pianist and composer, and film critic. She spent the first sixty years of her life in Romania until she moved to the United States in 1985 for a teaching job. A few years later Cassian was granted permanent asylum and New York City became her home for the rest of her life. Much of her work was published both in Romanian and in English.

Reviews

[Cosmin Vaman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Nu știu cine mai e azi considerat cel mai mare poet al României, dar oricine ar fi, e fan(ă) Nina Cassian. Poezia ei, care străpunge mângâind și aterizează ca prin minune tocmai pe cuvintele care dor, e o sărbătoare. Am fost curios să văd cum e în traducere. Andrea Deletant și Brenda Walker au făcut o treabă mai mult decât decentă traducând unele dintre cele mai frumoase poezii de dragoste ale Ninei Cassian. Mi-au plăcut mai puțin cele pe care le știam aproape pe de rost în original - greu să surprinzi perfect dragostea pe care cuvintele românești o au pentru poetă. Dar sclipirea aceea pe care o găsești poate o dată într-o generație se zărește și prin traducere. Nina Cassian nu a scris puțin și sunt volume contestate scrise în primii ani ai regimului comunist din România, dar la poezia ei de dragoste sunt convins că se emoționează pe ascuns și detractorii.

Call yourself alive? Look, I promise you
that for the first time you'll feel your pores opening
like fish mouths, and you'll actually be able to hear
your blood surging through all those lanes,
and you'll feel light gliding across the cornea
like the train of a dress. For the first time
you'll be aware of gravity
like a thorn in your heel,
and your shoulder blades will ache for want of wings.
Call yourself alive? I promise you
you'll be deafened by dust falling on the furniture,
you'll feel your eyebrows turning to two gashes,
and every memory you have
will begin
at Genesis.

[Abigail Munson · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Once I even built a planet// with silk mountains shaped like sleeping birds”

[Rainie · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this collection. Mine has coffee stains all over it. I saw her read her poetry in Brighton and she was as impressive as I expected and that's saying something.

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ive never read an author in translation who I feel intuitively I’m losing in the mists of meaning because of translation. I particularly note it at the end of poems, where just as it’s building to a powerful conclusion, I lose site of the summit, which remains wrapped in the fog. I’d love to understand this in the Romanian, or at least ask if it is indeed these translations where I’m losing her. It is particularly noticeable in the longer poems.

I like her when she’s less cosmological


She writes hurt best. Favourites:
Because you don’t love me
Accident
Letters ( reminds me of Yeats)
Donna miraculata
Morning exercises
Stained glass windows
Bread and Wine
Capital Punishment
It was a love
Daily Execution
The rainmaker
My Crimes
***
That’s about it
Ceremony
Anniversary

[Mills College Library]

859.1 C345c 1988