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    Alice Ages and Ages by Sarah White Book Preview

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    Sarah White Alice Ages and Ages 978-1-60964-028-6 "Never in American letters, before Alice Ages and Ages, have we seen a thigh at once so elegant and portentous. Upon its surface a filigree of web-like veins—empurpled, cerulean, blood-red, according to certain gradations of self-regard and fear. Where will we find its meaning? Deep-rooted in Alice’s flesh? In its mirror image? Behind the looking glass in the specular world? If anyone knows, Sarah White does. Follow her words toward the heart of this spidery labyrinth. Stay always alert. —Eugene Garber, author of O Amazonas Escuro Alice deconstructed, Alice revised, in Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White puts the lookingglass through Alice and makes me feel as though Alice were everywhere, as though the first principle of Alice were: the fantastic voyage of the body requires us to perform necessary inversions. Alice the tattooed girl, the intravenous destination, is torn between looking forward, looking back, and looking down at the sharp. spidery splinters that beleaguer her. With wit, tart asides, mournful logic, and the shivery creation of a new literary world, Sarah White draws us inevitably to her poems and prose poems, as we “flow to Alice City”… —David Lazar, author of Powder Town, editor of Hotel Amerika In 1947, Raymond Queneau, inspired by Bach's Art of the Fugue, wrote Exercices de Style, in which one small scenario is retold 99 different ways. In Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White refracts Queneau's variations in her own rich poetic kaleidosope. This is a slice of life, as if watching Mrs. Dalloway for an hour in her home and then watching her with 3D glasses, vaulting her into parallel universes, from nursery to Kafkaesque office block. White's imagination, skill, and wit meet the demands of variation. A small moment expands into the myriad consolations of a creative life. She borrows voices and uses forms of verse, letters, quizzes, and alternate points of view. Word play, sound, and sheer intelligent joy runs through it. —Claudia Carlson, author of The Elephant House Sarah White’s variations inspired by Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through the Looking Glass manage to be at once serio-comic meditations on vanity and aging and joyful celebrations of language and the human imagination. —Stephen O’Connor, author of Here Comes Another Lesson" Before moving to Manhattan, Sarah White taught French language and literature at Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster, PA. She is author of a poetry collection, Cleopatra Haunts the Hudson (Spuyten Duyvil, 2007), a poetry chapbook, Mrs. Bliss and the Paper Spouses (Pudding House, 2007), and a book-length lyric essay, The Poem Has Reasons: a Story of Far Love (www. proempress.com, 2008). She is also co-translator (with Matilda Bruckner and Laurie Shepard) of Songs of the Women Troubadours (Garland, 2000).

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    Alice Ages and Ages by Sarah White Book Preview

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    BlazeVOX [books]
    110 views13 pages
    Sarah White Alice Ages and Ages 978-1-60964-028-6 "Never in American letters, before Alice Ages and Ages, have we seen a thigh at once so elegant and portentous. Upon its surface a filigree of web-like veins—empurpled, cerulean, blood-red, according to certain gradations of self-regard and fear. Where will we find its meaning? Deep-rooted in Alice’s flesh? In its mirror image? Behind the looking glass in the specular world? If anyone knows, Sarah White does. Follow her words toward the heart of this spidery labyrinth. Stay always alert. —Eugene Garber, author of O Amazonas Escuro Alice deconstructed, Alice revised, in Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White puts the lookingglass through Alice and makes me feel as though Alice were everywhere, as though the first principle of Alice were: the fantastic voyage of the body requires us to perform necessary inversions. Alice the tattooed girl, the intravenous destination, is torn between looking forward, looking back, and looking down at the sharp. spidery splinters that beleaguer her. With wit, tart asides, mournful logic, and the shivery creation of a new literary world, Sarah White draws us inevitably to her poems and prose poems, as we “flow to Alice City”… —David Lazar, author of Powder Town, editor of Hotel Amerika In 1947, Raymond Queneau, inspired by Bach's Art of the Fugue, wrote Exercices de Style, in which one small scenario is retold 99 different ways. In Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White refracts Queneau's variations in her own rich poetic kaleidosope. This is a slice of life, as if watching Mrs. Dalloway for an hour in her home and then watching her with 3D glasses, vaulting her into parallel universes, from nursery to Kafkaesque office block. White's imagination, skill, and wit meet the demands of variation. A small moment expands into the myriad consolations of a creative life. She borrows voices and uses forms of verse, letters, quizzes, and alternate points of view. Word play, sound, and sheer intelligent joy runs through it. —Claudia Carlson, author of The Elephant House Sarah White’s variations inspired by Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through the Looking Glass manage to be at once serio-comic meditations on vanity and aging and joyful celebrations of language and the human imagination. —Stephen O’Connor, author of Here Comes Another Lesson" Before moving to Manhattan, Sarah White taught French language and literature at Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster, PA. She is author of a poetry collection, Cleopatra Haunts the Hudson (Spuyten Duyvil, 2007), a poetry chapbook, Mrs. Bliss and the Paper Spouses (Pudding House, 2007), and a book-length lyric essay, The Poem Has Reasons: a Story of Far Love (www. proempress.com, 2008). She is also co-translator (with Matilda Bruckner and Laurie Shepard) of Songs of the Women Troubadours (Garland, 2000).

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    Sarah White Alice Ages and Ages 978-1-60964-028-6 "Never in American letters, before Alice Ages and Ages, have we seen a thigh at once so elegant and portentous. Upon its surface a filigree of web-like veins—empurpled, cerulean, blood-red, according to certain gradations of self-regard and fear. Where will we find its meaning? Deep-rooted in Alice’s flesh? In its mirror image? Behind the looking glass in the specular world? If anyone knows, Sarah White does. Follow her words toward the heart of this spidery labyrinth. Stay always alert. —Eugene Garber, author of O Amazonas Escuro Alice deconstructed, Alice revised, in Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White puts the lookingglass through Alice and makes me feel as though Alice were everywhere, as though the first principle of Alice were: the fantastic voyage of the body requires us to perform necessary inversions. Alice the tattooed girl, the intravenous destination, is torn between looking forward, looking back, and looking down at the sharp. spidery splinters that beleaguer her. With wit, tart asides, mournful logic, and the shivery creation of a new literary world, Sarah White draws us inevitably to her poems and prose poems, as we “flow to Alice City”… —David Lazar, author of Powder Town, editor of Hotel Amerika In 1947, Raymond Queneau, inspired by Bach's Art of the Fugue, wrote Exercices de Style, in which one small scenario is retold 99 different ways. In Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White refracts Queneau's variations in her own rich poetic kaleidosope. This is a slice of life, as if watching Mrs. Dalloway for an hour in her home and then watching her with 3D glasses, vaulting her into parallel universes, from nursery to Kafkaesque office block. White's imagination, skill, and wit meet the demands of variation. A small moment expands into the myriad consolations of a creative life. She borrows voices and uses forms of verse, letters, quizzes, and alternate points of view. Word play, sound, and sheer intelligent joy runs through it. —Claudia Carlson, author of The Elephant House Sarah White’s variations inspired by Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through the Looking Glass manage to be at once serio-comic meditations on vanity and aging and joyful celebrations of language and the human imagination. —Stephen O’Connor, author of Here Comes Another Lesson" Before moving to Manhattan, Sarah White taught French language and literature at Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster, PA. She is author of a poetry collection, Cleopatra Haunts the Hudson (Spuyten Duyvil, 2007), a poetry chapbook, Mrs. Bliss and the Paper Spouses (Pudding House, 2007), and a book-length lyric essay, The Poem Has Reasons: a Story of Far Love (www. proempress.com, 2008). She is also co-translator (with Matilda Bruckner and Laurie Shepard) of Songs of the Women Troubadours (Garland, 2000).

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    110 views13 pages

    Alice Ages and Ages by Sarah White Book Preview

    Uploaded by

    BlazeVOX [books]
    Sarah White Alice Ages and Ages 978-1-60964-028-6 "Never in American letters, before Alice Ages and Ages, have we seen a thigh at once so elegant and portentous. Upon its surface a filigree of web-like veins—empurpled, cerulean, blood-red, according to certain gradations of self-regard and fear. Where will we find its meaning? Deep-rooted in Alice’s flesh? In its mirror image? Behind the looking glass in the specular world? If anyone knows, Sarah White does. Follow her words toward the heart of this spidery labyrinth. Stay always alert. —Eugene Garber, author of O Amazonas Escuro Alice deconstructed, Alice revised, in Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White puts the lookingglass through Alice and makes me feel as though Alice were everywhere, as though the first principle of Alice were: the fantastic voyage of the body requires us to perform necessary inversions. Alice the tattooed girl, the intravenous destination, is torn between looking forward, looking back, and looking down at the sharp. spidery splinters that beleaguer her. With wit, tart asides, mournful logic, and the shivery creation of a new literary world, Sarah White draws us inevitably to her poems and prose poems, as we “flow to Alice City”… —David Lazar, author of Powder Town, editor of Hotel Amerika In 1947, Raymond Queneau, inspired by Bach's Art of the Fugue, wrote Exercices de Style, in which one small scenario is retold 99 different ways. In Alice Ages and Ages, Sarah White refracts Queneau's variations in her own rich poetic kaleidosope. This is a slice of life, as if watching Mrs. Dalloway for an hour in her home and then watching her with 3D glasses, vaulting her into parallel universes, from nursery to Kafkaesque office block. White's imagination, skill, and wit meet the demands of variation. A small moment expands into the myriad consolations of a creative life. She borrows voices and uses forms of verse, letters, quizzes, and alternate points of view. Word play, sound, and sheer intelligent joy runs through it. —Claudia Carlson, author of The Elephant House Sarah White’s variations inspired by Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through the Looking Glass manage to be at once serio-comic meditations on vanity and aging and joyful celebrations of language and the human imagination. —Stephen O’Connor, author of Here Comes Another Lesson" Before moving to Manhattan, Sarah White taught French language and literature at Franklin and Marshall College, Lancaster, PA. She is author of a poetry collection, Cleopatra Haunts the Hudson (Spuyten Duyvil, 2007), a poetry chapbook, Mrs. Bliss and the Paper Spouses (Pudding House, 2007), and a book-length lyric essay, The Poem Has Reasons: a Story of Far Love (www. proempress.com, 2008). She is also co-translator (with Matilda Bruckner and Laurie Shepard) of Songs of the Women Troubadours (Garland, 2000).

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    of 13

    Alice Ages and Ages

    Sarah White

    BlazeVOX [books]
    Buffalo, New York

    Alice Ages and Ages by Sarah White Copyright 2010 Published by BlazeVOX [books] All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the publishers written permission, except for brief quotations in reviews. Printed in the United States of America Book design by Geoffrey Gatza First Edition ISBN: 978-1-60964-028-6 Library of Congress Control Number 2010931943 BlazeVOX [books] 303 Bedford Ave Buffalo, NY 14216 Editor@blazevox.org

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    p ublisher of weird little books

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    The Marsh Northeast of My Knee The Mirror gone, I traipse to you whose trails are blue bayou, torn fringe, coral fan patterns I peruse as old Romans read intestines of pigeons. I know you are an omen and I, a mortal woman. Tell my fortune. Show where I am going.

    11

    Alice Ages She had the Mirror removed years ago but has never stopped studying herself. This morning, when she woke up, she took stock of her body relying on her eyes and handsand found nothing out of the ordinary. But now that she has moved about for a half-hour and sat down to rest, she encounters a mass of blue webbing on her inner thigh. The lines lie close to the surface, yet shes sure theyre connected to deeper systems. Whats going on that cannot be seen? Might she discern in the pattern of her spider veins a suggestion of events to come?

    12

    And Ages She had the mirror removed years ago, but has never stopped studying herself. She stares at a fleshy patch upwards of her right knee. Its a maze of lavender trails that werent there a half-hour ago when she woke up and examined her legs, finding them as round and even-toned as a pears belly. Then she traipsed to the front door for the News, to the kitchen for milk and chocolate, to the cabinet for a mug, and now to the table, where she sips the fragrant concoction. She has glanced down and noticed these fan corals, torn fringes, paths that break off and lead nowhere. She thinks its an omen. She will try to read it, as ancient priests read fresh entrails to assess their citys health. Crowded streets, loud vehicles, and prophetic voices echo through the city of Alice. She listens.

    13

    Urgent! Out with the mirror. On with the search. What, suddenly, are these inkstains on her thigh? A deep stream is blocked; new channels have formed. They lead nowhere, slow the flow, speed the days. She will have to work fast, learn shorthand.

    14

    Contrariwise She had the Mirror brought in weeks ago, but has never begun studying herself. She failed to check out her body this morning and now is busy ignoring a pristine area on the back of her shin. Its blank expanses float above the surface, unrelated to any aspect of her being. Why should she ask whats going on? If she got an answer it would be one shed invented.

    15

    The girl had breathed The girl had breathed within a Mirror, yawned and sallied home, preferring to remember a glass world, not to become its citizen. Now she will peruse herself in truthful daylight, and find no news, feel more or less okay. Hey, look again. Along her thigh run purple fans, furred lace, half-woven webs! They truly lie close to the surface. Spider veinsin girls, uncommon, frequent in her fellow women.

    16

    No sense A pawn that was queened, a queen that was pawned, a fawn that was weaned, a bream that was spawned, a girl that was grown, a pearl that was gone and a man who was fond of them allall hung on the wall in a mirror. It occurred to the girl that the wonder of life would be lost if she spent her days under a splinter of glass. A lass of good sense, she rushed to dispense with the mirror that hung on the wall in spite of a forest of voices that chorused: How can you ignore us? The Deans and the Dons, the Queens and the Pawns, the fleas and the fawns, the white-paper hat
    the tiny-voiced gnat

    and contrariwise the plum-pudding flies

    of remarkable size

    17

    Farewell to them all Theyre gone from the wall. Her creases and twinges, the lavender tinges of each spider vein will come to her brain but never by means of a mirror.

    18

    First Person I had the Mirror removed years ago. All the better to study myself. I move through the day observing minuscule shifts. These blue marks that thread the surface of my thigh... they werent there this morning. Their freshly woven webs resemble those I saw on my mother in her later yearspoor Red Queen. For all her grand airs, she ended in misery. Will I? These tiny vessels... I dont need them, but they must be related to those I do need. Ive never known how. I forage alone. Earths crust yields clues to its core. Each minute is a page in the Book of Last Things.

    19

    Second Person Alice Thank God you had the Mirror removed though I see youre as selfcentered as ever. Mornings, you examine your limbs, like a star primping for a photo shoot. You find yourself drab and unremarkablesurprise! Then, after dithering around the house (you should have your agitated depression treated or youll wear yourself to shreds!) you had to sit down and rest. Then you discover those insignificant veins on your upper leg. Whats so fascinating? Youve seen the same thing on dozens of women your age. But for you, dear Alice, its some sort of oracle, as if youd found a kids doodles and assumed they MEANT something! I ask you!. For your sake I have to say that obsessive auto-inspection wont add a thing to what you already know. Youre oldsimple as that. All the more reason not to waste time! For Gods sake, theres a city out there where every hour is rush hour. Volunteer. Feed the homeless. Get OUT of yourself, woman! As ever, Red

    20

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