Things Are Disappearing Here

Things Are Disappearing Here

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by Kate Northrop
     
 

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Disquieting new work from the winner of the 2001 Stan and Tom Wick Poetry Prize.

Absence and trespass permeate these poems, in which what has just occurred—or what is about to—is as palpable and ominous as it is unrevealed. In Kate Northrop's finely-wrought verse, children have gone missing, sealed-off passages are discovered, and missing dogs

Overview

Disquieting new work from the winner of the 2001 Stan and Tom Wick Poetry Prize.

Absence and trespass permeate these poems, in which what has just occurred—or what is about to—is as palpable and ominous as it is unrevealed. In Kate Northrop's finely-wrought verse, children have gone missing, sealed-off passages are discovered, and missing dogs emerge like visions before bounding off again. Northrop has a sixth sense for where the mundane and the uncanny pass too close for comfort—and no place more so than in the book's haunted centerpiece, a visceral rendering of a sixteenth-century Hungarian countess with certain insatiable appetites.

Gorgeous and strange, Things Are Disappearing Here is an imaginative tour-de-force.

Editorial Reviews

Eric McHenry
Northrop's poems recall early photographs where the shutter was left open until the scene had burned itself onto the paper. Her images acquire definition word by carefully weighed word.
—The New York Times

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780892553341
Publisher:
Persea Books
Publication date:
04/23/2007
Series:
Karen and Michael Braziller Bks.
Pages:
64
Product dimensions:
5.50(w) x 7.80(h) x 0.30(d)

Meet the Author

Kate Northrop is the author of a previous collection, Back Through Interruption. She is Associate Professor of English at West Chester University, and lives in Philadelphia.

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Things Are Disappearing Here 4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 1 reviews.
D_Sahner More than 1 year ago
This collection of poems, frequently fey and otherworldly, contains a great deal to admire. Kate Northrop is clearly capable of technical bravura but it is, perhaps, what is not explicitly said that stays longest with the reader. In the second portion of a suite entitled "Three Women," the narrator states that "Wherever I go, I bring evening. / I am the sorrow of flowers that open at twilight," and a crepuscular light, laden with the preternatural, invests many of the poems in this startling collection. Some of the strongest verse in this book, including "The Lost Wife," which concludes the aforementioned cycle, suggests a poetic skill largely unrivaled among contemporary writers. Northrop's virtuosity is also on prominent display in "The Film," which captures a simple moment impregnated with anticipatory bliss. She deploys rhyme and meter here with uncanny dexterity. It is difficult to cite clear influences, although Wallace Stevens comes to mind, particularly in the poem "View of the Farm," which mirrors the dichotomy between reality and imagination that is rife in the work of that poet. Throughout this collection, diction is luminous and evocative. The poems flow like the rivering streams to which they sometimes refer. Overall, this is a very satisfying collection by a poet richly endowed with the gift of her craft.