Elizabeth Bradfield is the author of Toward Antarctica (Boreal Books/Red Hen, 2019) Once Removed (Persea, 2015), Approaching Ice (Persea, 2008), and Interpretive Work (Arktoi Books/Red Hen Press, 2008). She is also co-editor of two anthologies: Cascadia Field Guide: Art, Ecology, Poetry (Mountaineers Books, 2023) and Broadsided Press: Fifteen Years of Poetic/Artistic Collaboration, 2005 - 2020 (Provincetown Arts Press, 2022).
Liz is editor of Broadsided (http://www.broadsidedpress.org), a modern incarnation of the traditional broadside. Her poetry been published in such journals as The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, Poetry, The Sun, and elsewhere.
Bradfield grew up in Tacoma, Washington, has received a Stegner Fellowship, a Bread Loaf Scholarship, the Audre Lorde Prize. She lives on Cape Cod, works as a naturalist, and teaches at Brandeis University.
When Eloise Klein Healy announced she would edit an imprint for Red Hen Press, I eagerly awaited the first publication under the Arktoi label. Interpretive Work by Bradfield is that book—a collection that surpasses all of my expectations, but not quickly or without effort for this book is meant to be chewed slowly as the title suggests. At first, I found the title curious and not especially provocative. Then I turned the book over looking for clues about the meaning, and I found a poem, “No More Nature,” instead of the typical blurbs of commendation above a photo of the author. The poem aroused my curiosity like a subtle whiff of something delicious cooking upon the stove. However, I would have to read the entire volume before I tasted the full flavor of “No More Nature” which appears again as the last poem in the book. Bradfield’s work is stunning in its complexity. She offers deeply nuanced portrayals of the obscure--the marbled murrelet or infrared reflectoscopy—as a window into the lesbian experience. She teases apart the intricacies of longing and desire. Again and again, these poems end in unexpected twists of revelation. The book is divided into five parts that roughly, and interpretively, correspond to a lesbian’s gradual recognition of being different, coming out, and living in a heterosexual world. It’s difficult to pick a favorite among this treasure chest of language and image, but “Flooded Forest” hit me in the solar plexus as I grasped this truth: “Then, for some reason or another,/ according to some clock we share, desire.” I haven’t experienced all the truths Bradfield explores though she never ceased to surprise me with her raw clarity, for example in “After All” which dives frankly into not giving birth and the difficulties of female relations: mother/daughter and women lovers. I read (and re-read) Bradfield’s poems with awe and appreciation for how deeply and how well she interprets the lives we lesbians live.
I fear I don't have words big enough to encompass the bright world contained in this book.
I have been drawing out the reading of it, so as to make it last that much longer. That's what you do with a book of poems this amazing. You skip around. You read page 12 and then jump forward to page 88. You hope that you miss a few, so when you flip through it next week you can be surprised by the discovery of a new one, unread.
I discovered Elizabeth Bradfield entirely by accident at a Bernal Heights poetry reading in San Francisco. She held us all spellbound as we sat uncomfortably cross-legged on the yoga-matted floor. The moment before she started reading, I was wishing it were over. I had heard so many that night and most of them made me regret leaving the comfort of my own couch.
But then Elizabeth read, starting with "Cul-de-sac Linguistics" (p. 73) and all thoughts of leaving and of couches were forgotten.
Interpretive Work is the best book of poetry I've read this year, and possibly last year, too. I feel incredibly lucky to have found it, and I know I'll be turning its pages to rediscover joy for a very long time to come.
This is a challenging book for me to review, in that the poems I loved, I absolutely loved, would give ten stars out of five. But equally, the poems I didn’t like, I did not like at all. I will, however, keep the book on my poetry shelf so that I can continue to read and reread for years to come all the poems I loved. For me I think it’s challenging to find a book of poetry in which every poem speaks to me, but this collection was particularly polarizing. Would still recommend to anyone who enjoys poetry.
I found myself slightly disappointed with the poems in the first section, which disappointed me in myself, because many of these poems are biology based. I did start off in the biology world when I started school. But the collection picks up in tremendous ways. I love the Butch Poem series and the the moments that seem most personal. This collection is full of love, science, politics, and did I mention love. Great read.
I'm head over heels crazy about the poems I've already read in this superb poet's first book. Now I'm just looking forward to spring break so I can take it with me and read the rest of 'em...
A thoughtful collection of poems, connective tissue threading throughout. Elizabeth Bradfield is very good at manipulating perspective. I especially liked the poems, Sweater for a Giant Squid, Concering the Proper Term for a Whale Exhaling, Collecting, and Whalefall.