Treason

February 15, 2010
"What has gotten into the bus driver/ Who has left his bus, who has sat down/ On a curb on the place de l'Opra/ Where he slips into the ease of being/ Nothing more than his own tears?" French poet Kaddour, here translated by an esteemed American poet, lures readers into his elegant world vignettes of overheard conversations and people on the street, his lyrical observations about poetry, politics, and philosophy, and his homage to writers like Paul Celan, Joseph Brodsky, and Derek Walcott, who inform his own. In her preface, Hacker refers to Kaddour as a "fl[neur"a loafer, a stroller, a witnessand, indeed, he is. Writing often in sonnet-shaped snapshots, he captures with wit, sensuality, and sometimes bawdy humor the sublime and the absurd on the streets of Paris and in romantic and familial relationships as well: "She was being kissed/ By a blunderer, the August night's/ Firmament poured its/ Starry milk down on them." VERDICT Sometimes difficult but thoroughly delightful, Kaddour's poetics offer readers proof of the transcendent qualities of literature. Highly recommended.Karla Huston, Appleton Art Ctr., WI

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