A doctor contemplates Lenin's embalmed body; two angels flank an open chest during a heart transplant; a father's anger turns into a summer thunderstorm... Each of Levin's poems is an astonishing investigation of human darkness, propelled by a sensuous syntax and a desire for healing."This is the language of a prophet: Levin's art, in this book certainly, takes place in a kind of mutating day of judgment: it means to wipe a film from our eyes. It is a dare, a challenge, and, for all its considerable beauty, the opposite of the seductive...Sensuous, compassionate, violent, extravagant: what an amazing debut this is, a book of terrors and marvels."-Louise Gluck, from the Introduction
Dana Levin was raised in Lancaster, California, in the Mojave Desert. She has received fellowships, grants, and awards from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Academy of American Poets, the Vermont Arts Council, and New York University, where she received her M.F.A. She lives in New Mexico and teaches Creative Writing at the College of Santa Fe.
Dana Levin is the author of “Now Do You Know Where You Are,” a New York Times Editor’s Choice. Previous books include "Banana Palace," "Sky Burial," "Wedding Day" and "In the Surgical Theatre," which received nearly every award available to first books and emerging poets. The Los Angeles Times says of her work, "Dana Levin's poems are extravagant...her mind keeps making unexpected connections and the poems push beyond convention...they surprise us." About Sky Burial The New Yorker writes: "Sky Burial brings a wealth of rituals and lore from various strains of Buddhism, as well as Mesoamerican and other spiritual traditions, but the intensity and seriousness and openness of her investigations make Levin’s use of this material utterly her own, and utterly riveting." Levin has won the Rona Jaffe Writers Award, the Witter Bynner Fellowship from the Library of Congress, a Whiting Writers’ Award, and fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Arts.
Although I find it a great luxury, and feel so fortunate, to be inundated with poetry, one unfortunate side effect is that it’s now rarer for a poem to give me chills, to cause that visceral reaction that thrills me into reading it again right away. When this does happen, I am ecstatic and reinvigorated by poetry’s power. Hence, I am happy to report that this phenomenon happened several times in Dana Levin’s extraordinary first collection. In poem after poem, she meditates on the grotesque and finds sublimity in the intricate connection between the minutiae of the body, its miraculous functions and malfunctions, and the leaps of faith it takes to be present in this humanly flawed world. Yet, the beauty of these poems is that they are grounded in very recognizable human situations that Levin masterfully observes and harvests for their metaphoric qualities. As the title suggests, this book takes place in a “theatre” of sorts: a place where human drama is displayed for all to access its lessons and postulations on how to be better at being human.
I re-read this on the train this week and upgraded my review, because I'd forgotten/never noticed how effing amazing the first section is. The second and third sections don't quite (quite) blow the top of my head off in the same way, but hey. I can see their projects more clearly now--I think I was just too young/dumb/envious when I read this before. It's stupendously good--as Gluck says in her introduction, its consistency and coherency and just plain balls-out strength of voice, for a first book, are astounding. That it's paced throughout the whole ms without losing its sense of urgency is even more of an accomplishment. Levin seams vast swaths of poem together with devices such as the repeated insistent questioning (variations on Plath's "Will you marry it, marry it, marry it?")--and maybe I never got before this reading that the "you" of almost all the poems indicates a direct challenging address to the self? What can I say, I'm slow to catch on. Fantastic stuff which I will urge onto students for as long as they let me.
Wow. Wow! It took me several months to 'finish' this collection because I was compelled to re-read over and again many (most) of the poems. That doesn't happen too much for me anymore; read Steven Rydman's awesome review and you'll get a good idea of what I mean, I think he says it perfectly.
These poems are certainly grotesque, yet they are also terribly beautiful, savage in their intensity--full of bodies, metal and bone, decay, light. Levin does not avert her eye to the gross horrors of the world but nor does she dampen feeling or the quickness of spirit that peeks out from the wreckage.
I also thought these poems were masterful in their use of line, breath, and form. Unbelievable. This is a collection I'll return to several times over the years.
Brilliant first section, particularly "Body of Magnesia," "Baby on the Table," and "In the Surgical Theatre." Striking juxtaposition of blunt, direct phrasing and lyrical shift. I appreciated as well the shifting perspective, fluid and gendered/less, calling attention to the immediately personal and generalized universal throughout each section, directly challenging the reader to look, bear witness, and meditate on the body and its spirit. A collection to read through at least twice before even beginning to form an opinion on it.
When the door between the worlds opened I ceased to be a ghost, I became the blood in my fingers in the veins of my hands I felt the world under my feet with its nails and its splinters I felt the salt the red water in the loam of my chest I was
no longer a ghost, the vapors were gone, I was solid, I hurt, my wings could be broken, it was joy, I was living in it, I bled, I cried.
This book of poems is a soul making process. I read it once and then again, especially the first section. Brilliant, exquisite pain of life captured on pages.
These poems shocked me with their bluntness, then pulled me through with their lyric. There are a few, particularly toward the end, that I will be rereading for a while.
After reading a current poem of Levin's on Twitter I decided to check out her work, starting with In the Surgical Theater, her first book. Wow. Almost every poem is a revelation and a delight to read. Levin's lyrical gifts are present in every line and image. From “Door”: “ in the leaning/ light,/ the blood smell of rust/ in the hinges of these open doors—“. From “Eyeless Baby”: “because sighted I am blind to all/ that's invisible,/ because without eyes I imagine/ anything:/ gems, suns, whatever conducts the light.” “Eyeless Baby” alone is worth the price of the book.
This is just criminally underrated — and for a debut, no less! These poems are bizarre, blatant, brutal — but also beautiful, bold, and brilliant. Levin navigates the body, home, and world with a deftness that would be admirable from a more tenured poet, but is shocking from such a fresh one. I found myself routinely riveted by the little details and characterizations throughout, and I could see myself re-reading this one day and getting an entirely new perspective on it.
I’d recommend this to fans of “messy” or abnormal poetry.
"There are so many now, perched on the headboard, opening and closing/ their wings like moths. The kidney/ is failing, and so many are arriving, alightings on the blanket, the pillow..." Disturbingly vivid, rooted as much in anatomy as in the paradoxical philosophies of existence, Dana Levin's 1999 collection has the feel of a dark fairy tale that cracks the body to see what's inside.
Louise Glück has described Levin as “extraordinary…with a demanding intelligence” and I don’t know if there are truer words to describe IN THE SURGICAL THEATER.
this book is a tour de force, weaved with light and a consistent sense of tension. Stunning collection.
9/26 3.5. I really enjoyed “magpie”. I also wonder how I find the books of poetry I find. I mean clearly something brought me to this collection but I don’t know what it was given I don’t know Dana Levins work. But I am so glad I found my way here.
I’m very glad I read these poems. They sing, they fly, they tell us a story of life in this age. Life at this moment in time. The poet paints a powerful and clear picture of how she sees the world. I’m so glad I read it.