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Sunday, June 2, 2013

Filed under: Reviews

An excerpt of a review by Tanis MacDonald 

I read Grid with a lot of curiosity about its title, for the back-cover blurb about living “off the grid” seemed true enough but entirely too easy a metaphor. These poems use rural life in northern Saskatchewan to propose an existential dilemma whereby the beauty of distance squares off against the queasiness of intimacy. The grid is a visual metaphor: the patterns of roads travelled by trucks and cars that are forever heading somewhere else; the parallel lines made by harrows and tractors; even the checkerboard pattern made by quarter-sections of farmland. But most pertinent to the collection, the word “grid” works linguistically: it’s a near-homonym of “grit” and, more than once, my eyes changed the order of the letters to read the word as “gird”—to encircle for protection—perhaps best read as a warning to the reader looking solely for beauty. Caveat emptor: Brenda Schmidt has an uncanny ability to find exactly the sharp shock of pain hidden in the lyric moment.

- See full review at the link below...


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