Part lyric, part memoir, Everything, now, Jessica Moore’s heart-rending debut, describes an untimely death and the journey of going on alone. The book stares down loss and struggles to transform that loss into language that can pass through boundaries of intricate sorrow; the act of translation here is not about two different languages—although Moore uses her own translation of Jean-François Beauchemin’s Turkana Boy as a template for translating death into life, past into present—but about the necessity to put the inexplicable into words that might hint at its intensity.
JESSICA MOORE is an author and literary translator. Her first book, Everything, now (Brick Books 2012), is a love letter to the dead and a conversation with her translation of Turkana Boy (Talonbooks 2012) by Jean-François Beauchemin, for which she won a PEN America Translation award. Mend the Living, her translation of the novel by Maylis de Kerangal, was nominated for the 2016 International Man Booker. Jessica’s most recent book—The Whole Singing Ocean (Nightwood 2020)—blends long poem, investigation, sailor slang and ecological grief, and was longlisted for the League of Canadian Poets’ Raymond Souster Award.
We all have to deal with loss of some sort in our lives. We are usually told to deal with as best as we can, but it still hurts. Jessica Moore shares the pain of a loss in her collection called Everything, now. And the wealth of emotion she shares is bountiful.
breathtaking, brilliant, heartbreaking, luminous. i read it from cover to cover on my balcony in the autumn sun, crying my heart out. a deeply courageous, loving and generous book. thanks, jessica moore.
I feel heartless giving something less than 5. I did not understand some of the poetry parts and would get confused at some parts like it just felt like an odd fragment added. But that's on me, I don't read poetry often so felt some things were left in the air.
I still loved it, a created a soft, solemn, calm slow moving vibe. I liked the images after a memory, that felt very raw and authentic. At times I felt like an invader in something so intimate and personal. I liked how the past, incorporating Galen's old life with your present reality, and trying to accept/comprehend grief was all kind of mixed all throughout. Because grief is like that. It hits you when you see, smell, or touch something that you match with who you lost.