Reviews
of Lark Apprentice
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A Brenda Hillman Selection
The gestures in the lyric poems of Louise Mathias' Lark Apprentice
are as swift and elusive as wings in flight. Always aware of the futility in
efforts to settle, these beautiful poems are coerced into motion, pausing only
briefly to ponder the secrets of yearning, of loss, and even the cosmos itself.
Possessing a bold and dark sensuality, they entice us to follow their inexplicable
paths, 'Just our bodies, smart / with complications. And our mouths; / pink
halos of effort / in the black apparatus of night.'
Molly Bendall
Lark Apprentice is a debut marked by the careful notation of proof
and theorem rather than scrap-sheet desperation, yet why should this result
instead in an artifice of calculation and clarity? Because the big
questions fortuitously elude the speakers math: Why so long with
your disbelief? Why insist that the life cut short / is worthy of drama? What
if the proverbial / night, its angular presence, in time / could be softened,
made right? Who, / this late in the game, was equipped for that? Have you always
been literal/winter? Couldnt you take a part at a time? Here, the
sum of the parts generates such a brutal equation that there is
little difference between the longer life and the lush line.
Mathias recognizes the lush line was ever implemented not for the
sake of beauty, but to counter the fact that mortal inquiry is always fraught
with the danger of temporal collapse.
Richard Greenfield
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