Sonically vivid, as empire and climate fall into catastrophe, these poems open portals where the living and the dead find one another in new communication. From Shelley Memorial Award Winner Gillian Conoley, Notes from the Passenger reminds us how with increased gun violence, war, plague, white supremacy, we are no longer “in control.” We are no longer drivers; we are passengers––destination unknown. Arriving like missives from a bardic journey, these poems explore how system collapse has led to a new space-time continuum. As our perception/projection of world shifts in the quotidian contemporary and historical—even ancient—time, these cinematic linguistically vibrant poems seek new order beyond division, within catastrophe and joy, written on the edge of being.
Gillian Conoley (born 1955) is an American poet, the author of seven collections of poetry. Her work has been anthologized widely, most recently in Norton’s American Hybrid, Counterpath’s Postmodern Lyricisms, Mondadori’s Nuova Poesia Americana (Italian), and Best American Poetry. Conoley's poetry has appeared in Conjunctions, New American Writing, American Poetry Review, The Canary, A Public Space, Carnet de Rouge, Jacket, Or, Fence, Verse, Ironwood, jubilat, Zyzzyva, Ploughshares, the Denver Quarterly, the Missouri Review and other publications. A recipient of the Jerome J. Seshtack Poetry Prize from The American Poetry Review, as well as several Pushcart Prizes, she is Professor and Poet-in-Residence at Sonoma State University,[1] where she is the founder and editor of Volt. She has taught as a Visiting Poet at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop at the University of Iowa, the University of Denver, Vermont College, and Tulane University.
Sonically stunning, complex, and finely tuned as all Conoley’s work is. Each new book is somehow better than the last, which, for someone as prolific as Conoley, is quite a feat.
These poems are definitely not meant to be read quickly and digested easily. The structure of the entire collection is compelling, and every poem offers so much to find if you just sit with it and deeply consider it for a few minutes more.
The formatting is interesting, the titles are fascinating, and the overarching themes of nature and life and death are prominent but not in your face or overdone.
I'm not a huge poetry fan, but "End Notes" at the close of section IV is a poem that I think will stay with me forever. I'm so glad I bought this collection!
Not sure what to think of this, nor do I think it makes all that much sense to mark this read. More a series of images and events that are sequentially experienced than a book, I'll need to revisit this, very superficial read through this time around. I don't know how to review poetry, I'll be back.