Edited by Mark Abley; Preface by Hilary Clark; Afterword by Mark Abley This posthumous collection will be a delightful surprise for readers who thought they had heard the last of Anne Szumigalski's nimble, sideslipping, otherworldly voice. Szumigalski's poetic universe is as beguiling and unpredictable as dreams and myth, and like them, her universe can be enchanting, visually lush, and suddenly dangerous. The poems deal with ultimate questions. What is time? What is memory? Is it invented or real? Is death a kind of dream? Is life? Is God a man, a woman, or a Sacred Reptile? The imaginative leaps in When Earth Leaps Up are as easy as looking up at the prairie sky, as simple as turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of an idea as it skips past you in the form of an interesting stranger, a passing cloud, the face of a loved one, long dead.
Edited by Mark Abley; Preface by Hilary Clark; Afterword by Mark Abley This posthumous collection will be a delightful surprise for readers who thought they had heard the last of Anne Szumigalski's nimble, sideslipping, otherworldly voice. Szumigalski's poetic universe is as beguiling and unpredictable as dreams and myth, and like them, her universe can be enchanting, visually lush, and suddenly dangerous. The poems deal with ultimate questions. What is time? What is memory? Is it invented or real? Is death a kind of dream? Is life? Is God a man, a woman, or a Sacred Reptile? The imaginative leaps in When Earth Leaps Up are as easy as looking up at the prairie sky, as simple as turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of an idea as it skips past you in the form of an interesting stranger, a passing cloud, the face of a loved one, long dead.