Meat Lovers
Autor Rebecca Hawkesen Limba Engleză Paperback – 11 aug 2022
With striking imagery and experimental language, Hawkes confronts mortality, loss, and the search for meaning in a world where beauty and horror intertwine. This collection is for readers of contemporary poetry, those interested in rural themes, LGBTQ+ individuals, and anyone who appreciates writing that is both challenging and deeply moving.
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781869409630
ISBN-10: 1869409639
Pagini: 92
Dimensiuni: 165 x 210 x 8 mm
Greutate: 0.15 kg
Editura: Auckland University Press
Colecția Auckland University Press
Locul publicării:Auckland, New Zealand
ISBN-10: 1869409639
Pagini: 92
Dimensiuni: 165 x 210 x 8 mm
Greutate: 0.15 kg
Editura: Auckland University Press
Colecția Auckland University Press
Locul publicării:Auckland, New Zealand
Recenzii
‘Rebecca Hawkes is the unmatched empress of viscera. Thrillingly perverse, utterly compelling – you eat these poems like overripe peaches, or like your own tongue.’ —Freya Daly Sadgrove
‘This collection presents a strong, distinctive, and, in some places, a startling and disturbing voice. Hawkes uses the everyday of supermarkets and butchers’ shops, farms and suburban streets. But there is often an unsettling sense of nightmare and gothic, and that unsettlement comes from an interrogation of the practices that we unthinkingly accept as normal, but are here imbued with a sense of menace.’ —Jane Stafford
‘Clearly, rubber gloves are one of the images Hawkes owns by right of obsession, but they will do nothing to protect you from the clinging smell of these poems, an irreverent blend of cow shit and red meat and mangroves and pomegranate and raw talent.’ —Joan Fleming on Rebecca Hawkes in AUP New Poets 5
‘This collection presents a strong, distinctive, and, in some places, a startling and disturbing voice. Hawkes uses the everyday of supermarkets and butchers’ shops, farms and suburban streets. But there is often an unsettling sense of nightmare and gothic, and that unsettlement comes from an interrogation of the practices that we unthinkingly accept as normal, but are here imbued with a sense of menace.’ —Jane Stafford
‘Clearly, rubber gloves are one of the images Hawkes owns by right of obsession, but they will do nothing to protect you from the clinging smell of these poems, an irreverent blend of cow shit and red meat and mangroves and pomegranate and raw talent.’ —Joan Fleming on Rebecca Hawkes in AUP New Poets 5