All We Saw

November 1, 2017

Like assembled fragments from an ancient Greek lyricist, this latest collection by Toronto poet laureate and novelist Michaels (Correspondences) coheres to form a spare, plaintive elegy for deceased friends and lovers, an abstract yet deeply felt attempt to comprehend the process by which "the moment of desire forcibly/ is renamed grief." Michaels's employment of imagery is restrained, as if the evocation of physical objects could not begin to describe "what self, longing, flesh/ are shaped by// what the body proves," yet an object can mark the critical point of connection--or departure--between two people: "the same book open between us," "a note in a hotel room." Unabashed in her literal evocations of "soul" and "heart," Michaels nevertheless approaches her subject without direct recourse to religion or spirituality. Often addressed to an unnamed "you" or "we," these poems aspire to be both intimate missives and philosophical contemplations, but the balance between emotion and discourse is a difficult one, and despite finding moments of knowing clarity, some readers may perceive a hint of preciousness in their execution. VERDICT Consider for large poetry collections.--Fred Muratori, Cornell Univ. Lib., Ithaca, NY

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