Charles Rammelkamp has reviewed (click here) A Northern Spring in an online UK publication called The Lake. One of things he writes about is the time stamps in the text messages, in the four preludes, and how they convey a panic that is otherwise not present in the prose. I hadn't seen that until he said it, that juxtaposition. He says that "Three years later, [A NORTHERN SPRING] reads like a memoir, contemporary history, though the repercussions continue. Mauch’s picture of a fractured society nevertheless contains the seeds of healing."
One of the things I love about both blurbs and reviews is seeing my own work newly and more deeply—often more profoundly—by seeing it through the eyes of another. Charles has again done that for me, for which I thank him. I'm still working through the new vision. Still seeing with new eyes.
It is thrilling to be reviewed every time one is reviewed, and strangely—or maybe not strangely at all?—thrilling beyond thrilling to be reviewed in a UK publication. I realize this is the information age and the home place of an online publication really bears little insofar as its reach, insofar as who its readership and audience is. I nonetheless am content to sit for a few minutes in the self-created illusion of UK poets, writers, and readers checking into their favorite online poetry resource and entering the world of A Northern Spring. It is the daydream of the moment.
One of the things I love about both blurbs and reviews is seeing my own work newly and more deeply—often more profoundly—by seeing it through the eyes of another. Charles has again done that for me, for which I thank him. I'm still working through the new vision. Still seeing with new eyes.
It is thrilling to be reviewed every time one is reviewed, and strangely—or maybe not strangely at all?—thrilling beyond thrilling to be reviewed in a UK publication. I realize this is the information age and the home place of an online publication really bears little insofar as its reach, insofar as who its readership and audience is. I nonetheless am content to sit for a few minutes in the self-created illusion of UK poets, writers, and readers checking into their favorite online poetry resource and entering the world of A Northern Spring. It is the daydream of the moment.
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