Itself
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- $19.99
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- $19.99
Publisher Description
What do “self” and “it” have in common? In Rae Armantrout’s new poems, there is no inert substance. Self and it (word and particle) are ritual and rigmarole, song-and-dance and long distance call into whatever dark matter might exist. How could a self not be selfish? Armantrout accesses the strangeness of everyday occurrence with wit, sensuality, and an eye alert to underlying trauma, as in the poem "Price Points" where a man conducts an imaginary orchestra but "gets no points for originality." In their investigations of the cosmically mundane, Armantrout’s poems use an extraordinary microscopic lens—even when she’s glancing backwards from the outer reaches of space. An online reader’s companion is available at http://raearmantrout.site.wesleyan.edu.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
The powers of brevity, observation, and sarcastic wit that took Armantrout (Just Saying) from 1970s avant-gardist to widely imitated and Pulitzer Prize winning (for 2010's Versed) authority are back, and as sharp as ever. The UC San Diego professor of poetry alludes to the flora and climate of her native California, as well as to her own age and sense of mortality: "We inquire about heaven/ as we might/ about a nursing home." At the same time, the hypocrisies, little absurdities, and symptoms of false consciousness that her sharp lines diagnose can be found in the language most Americans use. "What do I have to say/ to myself?" asks a poem called "End User"; "My username/ is invalid." Like a prolific musician, Armantrout produces many outwardly similar works, but none of them sound much like anyone else. Her recent books reflect her continued interest in social critique, as well as her new attention to the natural sciences; in this one which is perhaps among her best computer science and math take the lead, allowing her to ask in what sense we are functions, rule-governed beings, or kinds of programs: "For us to consist/ of infinitesimal points// of want/ and not// makes a lot of sense."
