“Like Woolf, Garner knows that self and other become tangled in the art of estrangement. ‘In a shop window in Merimbula I saw my face reflected and gave myself a fright,’ Nora thinks immediately after she falls in love with Javo. ‘My hair was wild and stiff with salt, standing on end all over my head. My face was burned almost back to paleness and my eyes stared out of dirty skin. I liked myself: I looked strong and healthy.’ Desire has made her strange to herself by attuning her to the strangeness of another, since there is nothing stranger, nothing more amazing or concerning, than to see yourself reflected through another person’s interested gaze, or for your reflection to melt and resurface as the person moves closer and further away. When Javo leaves her, Nora cuts off all her hair and chases her reflection for pages, failing to recognize who she was in what she sees: ‘I saw the bumpy shape of my skull, I saw myself shorn and revealed. I wandered in a dream around the city, glimpsing in shop windows a strange creature with my face.’ ~Merve Emre https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v41/n06/merve-emre/on-the-dizzy-edge
“Like Woolf, Garner knows that self and other become tangled in the art of estrangement. ‘In a shop window in Merimbula I saw my face reflected and gave myself a fright,’ Nora thinks immediately after she falls in love with Javo. ‘My hair was wild and stiff with salt, standing on end all over my head. My face was burned almost back to paleness and my eyes stared out of dirty skin. I liked myself: I looked strong and healthy.’ Desire has made her strange to herself by attuning her to the strangeness of another, since there is nothing stranger, nothing more amazing or concerning, than to see yourself reflected through another person’s interested gaze, or for your reflection to melt and resurface as the person moves closer and further away. When Javo leaves her, Nora cuts off all her hair and chases her reflection for pages, failing to recognize who she was in what she sees: ‘I saw the bumpy shape of my skull, I saw myself shorn and revealed. I wandered in a dream around the city, glimpsing in shop windows a strange creature with my face.’ ~Merve Emre https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v41/n06/merve-emre/on-the-dizzy-edge
What’s interesting about the poem is her use of “I” — for 5 lines— then a transition into “old woman” — and then she addresses a “you.”
The aspect of time intrigues me— the type of poem that can be placed in many places— “dark forest” — real & surreal
“humiliation” — a powerful word. Invokes the audience on multiple levels.
One more…. (hope it’s not too heavy)
“I have humiliated myself so I can participate in the city.
I have smothered my own cries in order to survive.
I have tied myself down to the number system
so I can disappear into the stream of the economy.
Whenever an old woman is seen going
into a dark forest with two children you know they are escaping.
They are not dying. Why else would they be so bright of eye?”
~Fanny Howe 
Wow!! Hope you enjoy them. I got the book “Come & See” — where you can find this poem— off my shelves now.
whole poem:
“Out of It
During re-education you can't learn.
Fear of the fist
produces self-censorship.
Thought wavers.
You fear ideas.
The ferry lets out a yelp and you jump.
Your hands are numb and nonfunctional.
They cover your lips unable to utter a syllable.
What have you learned?
The nurse in blue
loosens your wristwatch to let the blood flow.
Up you jump and run
when an angry man comes in. This is a house of true learning.
You must, you must avoid that fist!”
~Fanny Howe 
Looking through old photos… shared these lines from a Fanny Howe poem on Twitter in 2019 — if my photo app is right. I still get chills when I read it. 
Happy Birthday— what a lovely day!
Awards usually result in more translations— hopefully. And better still if you actually want to read the author. Will keep my eyes peeled for the books you mentioned.
thank you! You as well. October is my favorite month— more pics & poetry will most likely pour out of me. It’s naturally intoxicating— 🍁🔥
Morning. #sunrise #october
Morning. #sunrise #october
yes— adorable! The secret garden— bright spots, shadows, thorns perhaps— bramble & wisps of willow— it has potential. So Nostr can require email?
I wanted to type some lines of poetry in a bloom so I looked asap—
This line will haunt me now 🐱
“gatitos de un reino transparente”
“kittens from a transparent realm” ~Ida Vitale