Case Sensitive

by Kate Greenstreet

Poetry. Greenstreet's highly original CASE SENSITIVE posits a female central character who writes chapbooks that become the sections in this book. "What happens in the book I want to read?" Greenstreet asked herself. "And how would it sound?" Everything the character is reading, remembering, and dreaming turns up in what she writes, duly referenced with notes. Using natural language charged with concision and precise syntax, Greenstreet has created a memorable and lasting first collection. "A poem intrigue of the highest order. Greenstreet has made a brilliant beginning with this first book"--Kathleen Fraser. "A beautiful dwelling of ideas. CASE SENSITIVE suggests that there need be no divide between the associative connections of poetry and the extended thinking of the essay. This is a book full of luminous footnotes, details, and attentive readings. CASE SENSITIVE strings together a series of moments to create something resonate, large, and inclusive"--Juliana Spahr.

Genres: Poetry

130 pages, Paperback

First published September 15, 2006

About the author

Kate Greenstreet's books are The End of Something, Young Tambling, The Last 4 Things, and case sensitive, all with Ahsahta Press.

Reviews

[Tristan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Well, the week got away from me on this one (I suddenly decided that I should perhaps know more html than just the bare minimum required to format my reviews) and it took much longer than I expected to finish case sensitive. On the whole, I thought it was okay. I actually read it in one sitting very late at night last weekend, but I got so little out of it that I figured I should pretend I hadn't and read it again this week before reviewing it. It was a little more meaningful this time around, but it still fell mostly flat for me. I had trouble feeling from the poems in this book and I also tended to have a little difficulty following the "events" of each piece, like the very first poem in the first section, "Great Women of Science", which begins,

Many things about the story are puzzling.
The women cooking, the men

swimming in the sea.
I believe we need light

inside the body.
Her necklace is

sparkling, see?
See the sparkle lines?

This section continued in approximately his vein, and while there were moments of interest, on the whole, it didn't do much for me--emotionally, narratively, or aesthetically. "Great Women of Science" was also my least favorite section of the book, so that may have biased me against some of the poems later on. The pieces I did like were mostly in either [SALT] and "Where's the Body?", especially "[breaks spells]", "[smothers flames]", "informant", and "I want you to see me". That last one might have been my favorite poem in the book, as it gets at the pain of turning pain into laughter: "A crime had turned me into a phone. I tried to get sympathy from Michael but he thought it was funny. It hurt to laugh, but I had to. My receiver was transparent. I kept saying but Mike, I'm a phone. (I was sill a person, in a way. I still had my legs.)"
In spite of some good moments, however, case sensitive was not what I hoped it would be for me and I found that the collection fell mostly flat. One important thing that didn't work for me, but might for other readers, was the organization of the book. It is broken into distinct sections, each with a separate set of notes, really forcing the reader to read each section as a unit. While I like the idea a lot, I had trouble getting the sections to cohere as I read in such a way as to make me feel that the creation of such strongly delineated sequences added to the meaning of the book as a whole.

[Amanda · Rating 2 out of 5]

Honestly, I was more intrigued by the all the research done for this book than the actual writing. The narrative, at times, for me, was too disjointed--to the point that it became experimental without any real intention other than that. I comprehend that this book is working with associative connections and extended thinking and it's all about ideas and how narrative overlap (I get it), but I believe writers need to work these experimentations into the writing and that the writing should bring out these things, Ultimately, the writing should come first and be the best aspect of a book, in my humble opinion. And in my opinion, that wasn't the case with this book, sadly. I really wanted to LOVE this book because I think the idea of it is utterly amazing.

[Barrett · Rating 3 out of 5]

I had a considerable amount of ambivalence when I began reading this book, a sensation that I frequently experience with poets whose words work with a quick-slowness of mushrooms or slime mold. It was musty, fall-like. The street scenes, the empty rooms, the crystalline solids we pour on eggs. It was the ordinary rendered extraordinary through the rendering process itself. That is to say I began to appreciate the work of a poet who is a painter, as well. These poems felt composed, as in, what is selected to appear within a certain polygon -- our polygon this time around being the page. What I had mistaken for an almost affected use of 'un-specificity' reemerged as an instrument whose sound is familiar to me: Mystery. Reaching the fourth section, "Where's the Body", I began to speak them out loud, in my mystery voice. I saw the poems through a lens of film noir. I imagined saxophones, notable because I openly dislike saxophones, and because film noir is nigh impossible without them. Mystery highlights what we might omit from the consciousness of our everyday lives -- the continuum of frenzied escapes, the tragic romances, the void where our victim waits, chasing with cars and being chased with cars. For me, it became the seemingly random imprinted with meaning because we held our attention to it long enough to see, but not enough to understand, and long enough to remember in some hazy way. For me, "case sensitive" became a smooth example of a memory repressed, a memory misremembered, and a memory made.

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

Several books came out last year that I’ve had a difficult time getting through, not because I don’t like them, I do, but simply because they are so long. Kate Greenstreet’s case sensitive is a good example (another is Richard Meier’s excellent Shelly Gave Jane a Guitar, but there are several). I like this book quite a bit, but as it's 118 pages long, I have this terrible tendency to browse when I should be reading. I’m sure this is my failing (I also like poetry readings when they’re fairly short.), and others might talk about the wonderful experience of really sitting with a book when it’s long, but my feeling is that the longer the book, the more the individual poems can get lost in the blur. I would have preferred that this book were two books, as I like to read poems slowly and many times. I would have purchased both.

None of this diminishes what Greenstreet is able to accomplish here. The tightness of the fragments. The lyrical smoothness above the disquieting possibilities . . .

[C · Rating 4 out of 5]

It took me a really long time to finish this collection. It was read (at points) in three or four different states over a period of months. So I wouldn't say that I gave it a true, fair reading. And yet here I am - giving it four stars anyway.

I had a really hard time getting into the first section of the book (which partially explains why it took me so long to read it) but once I was past the first section, I really started to like Greenstreet's rhythms and phrasing. While more experimental than is typical for writing in my taste, something began to click for me.

In the end, I'm not sure that I understood the book on more than a very basic level, to be completely honest. And I would say that it is a bit of a difficult read. But I still somehow recommend it in the end. It worked for me on a level that I don't feel like I can suitably explain.

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

The first section "Women of Science" is fantastic! The second section "SALT" is tougher going, but keep on through because the rest of the book is again fantastic. There's a feeling of mystery that reminds me of Notley's Disobedience, though Greenstreet's speakers and characterizations change up frequently. As soon as I finished, I had that bereft feeling that novels often leave me with. I needed to read it again, right away. The thinking behind the poems is almost unchartable, though not at all unclear. The poems Zagat when you expect them to ziggurat. It's great! Refreshing! I haven't read anything this good in months!

[Rodney · Rating 5 out of 5]

Greenstreet’s work draws a lot of its energy from the directness and compact austerity of her language, which reminds me of the Objectivists in its expressive use of space & feeling for the ‘essential’ statement. Several of the poems take shape as a form of dialogue with the absent or dead, investing conversational flatness with the shimmer of the numinous: “What’s the appeal of a mystery? Someone is looking for something, actively.”

[Bonnie · Rating 5 out of 5]

There's something about the voice in the book---and Greenstreet's own voice when she reads her poems--- that is absolutely unique and memorable. (I was going to write "haunting," because I can call her voice to mind very easily--it stays with a reader, like how a dream or specter might--but I do not want to attribute any negative connotation to the voice, and "haunting" might appear negative to someone besides myself.) Her voice implores one to listen: Not if you *choose* to listen, but to listen because listening seems absolutely necessary. It is the type of listening (substitute: "reading") that results from calm, steady, patient locution. It is the type of listening that results in inhalation: The aura of the poems stays with a person. As in, here, listen to Greenstreet's voice from the poem "7 [raises the boiling point]" from the Salt section:

"She's just there.
What do you mean 'What's the deal?'
She's sleeping.
You can spend a long time not doing something.
To lean towards. Also, take care of.

There'll be something.
That's how it was last time.
You start by breaking it down.

It just stinks.
It's the order,
in a sentence."

....(page 29)....

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Greenstreet uses a combination of spare, but lovely language and a complex structure to create an intriguing book of poetry. This one (like all poetry) requires close, careful reading. I did enjoy this work, but feel I probably need to read it a second time to fully appreciate it.

[Catherine Meng · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lovely lovely. I read the whole thing while in the waiting room at my doctor's office. Especially fond of the last section "Diplomacy" and "[SALT]".

"To dig a hole they use the antlers of a deer."

[Amy · Rating 5 out of 5]

still parsing it out

[Steve]

http://lemonhound.blogspot.com/2007/0...

[sarah · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading her poetry is like sliding a feather above your ear. "Salt" is my favorite section.

[Virginia · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this book! I was so going along for the ride. I will keep re-reading the chapters, it's so dense and though I read carefully, I know I missed something. GREAT read!