Words today swerve like sweet lace, pivot like fine dandelions, as though life were an obelisk turning blue in winter dark, as though gerunds could sleigh with pretty participles as though adjectives would smoke in a dark, unknown as though language were just transparent. A see-through Norwegian melody, Mina Loy and H.D. naming Read More
Robert Macfarlane’s Landmarks is much-coveted; though newly published, it feels entrenched in the nature-writing canon already. From the exquisite cover and fine end-papers on, it should be owned by all lovers of landscape and language. Perhaps that is as far as Landmarks can, and should, be categorised. Macfarlane’s prose-poetic text calls for “a decentred eye Read More
