"Yau tweaks and twists language to express a painful comic vision in which sensual vividness combines with fierce despair."—BooklistJohn Yau engages art criticism, social theory, and syntactical dexterity to confront the problems of aging, meaning, and identity. Insisting that "True poets and artists know where language ends, which is why they go there," Yau presses agains"Yau tweaks and twists language to express a painful comic vision in which sensual vividness combines with fierce despair."—BooklistJohn Yau engages art criticism, social theory, and syntactical dexterity to confront the problems of aging, meaning, and identity. Insisting that "True poets and artists know where language ends, which is why they go there," Yau presses against the limits of language, creating poems that are at once cryptic, playful, and insightful. Included in its entirety is his groundbreaking serial poem, "Genghis Chan: Private Eye," and a new series invoking the monochromatic painter Yves Klein.From "Exhibits":Can you name which country uses selective amnesia to determine its foreign policy?.Money has become a vast dirty sea rolling over the land..Money has become a UFO because it is the only thing that lacks controversy..Money rhymes with algae..Do you swear to tell the whole truth filled with nothing but reasonable lies?.Signing up for Free Membership works best in a failing economy..In case of emergency, please vacuum the premises..I used to be thorough, now I am just comprehensive . . . John Yau is the author of fifty books of poetry, fiction, and criticism. He is the arts editor of The Brooklyn Rail and teaches art criticism at Mason Gross School of the Arts and Rutgers University. He lives in the Garment District neighborhood in New York City....
|Title||:||Further Adventures in Monochrome|
|Number of Pages||:||96 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Further Adventures in Monochrome Reviews
In a vibrant, leaping quintathlon of lyricism, John Yau’s new poetry collection, Further Adventures in Monochrome, unbridles verse and undomesticates thought. Each of the five parts, as different and as similar as legs in a marathon, transport the reader closer and closer to Yau’s finish line, which is not ultimately a place, but, rather, a more open way of thinking: the ability to dwell within the impossible and unfamiliar, and the willingness to look at every little and huge thing from new angles. Nothing is safe (nor should it want to be) from Yau’s whimsical dismantling and rebuilding, and topics range from the absurdity of contemporary life, to culture, to race, to language, to art—with each subject acquiring a new expansiveness inside Yau’s maverick intelligence. Form is mere child’s play for Yau—sometimes skillfully evoked, sometimes left shattered by the prosodic roadside, sometimes barely teased out and left hanging. Language is stretched and snapped and turned upside down and sideways, and what we thought we once knew seems suddenly magical and exotic again.For the rest of this review, please see issue 35.1 of Pleiades.
This one was playful and experimental with an obvious love of language and affinity for its twists and turns as well as being an interesting look at art in general. I particularly enjoyed the final section of the book as it pertained to color and what art can and cannot accomplish.In general, it was more experimental than I typically enjoy in my poetry (I typically enjoy more narrative verse) and so the middling rating is probably more my taste than anything else as I felt that these poems were well-written.(I am also at a point in my life currently where I am particularly stressed and have a worse attention span and focus and so this volume did not probably fare as well for me as it would have at a different time. I hope to reread it at some point and will adjust my rating accordingly at that point.)