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J Cage: Music is permanent; only listening is intermittent


Thursday, September 19, 2019

INDIAN SUMMER RECYCLING! 




Full of so much gratitude to come home to a box of books! Big love to Jen Tynes/ The Magnificent Field, Alban Fischer, and Nick Potter forever! Indian Summer Recycling has a link up at SPD: https://www.spdbooks.org/…/978…/indian-summer-recycling.aspx

Blurbs for Nathan Hauke’s Indian Summer Recycling

To undo the blind arrogance of our common-sense—arrogance that knows what beauty is, arrogance that knows what love is worth and what is worthy of love—we need a poetry that gets tangled in the tangled roots. Nathan Hauke’s Indian Summer Recycling is a book of such poems. They offer us a singular devotion that occurs in countless forms, a religion that asks “for the widest definition of presence” (“New River train”).  Such religion puts the eye before the idea, and each idea has a visage, has a face, and looks back; such religion puts the family dog before lifeless dogma. Poems so turned toward life remind us that we still are learning how to live and must take the book’s dearest advice: “Count yourself one    among so many blessings / A vessel to be filled and laid to waste” (“Gunshots up the ridge”). No eternal ease, no heavenly comfort here—we are given just the gifts that are the days, just the loving harm that is our harmony.    
—Dan Beachy-Quick

Nathan Hauke’s Indian Summer Recycling reminds us that the ethics of recycling inscribe also a loss of origin.  In the world of things—which includes people, and the language in which we describe those things— hierarchy vanishes. Animal, mineral, and ultimately refuse, things are themselves the evidence of their use and reuse.  Finally, everything is nature.  Though forever in the present tense, hope—or perhaps simply tenderness?—Hauke’s attention lives in the pivot between the desire to “Love what’s gone/Ahead into new noise and affection” and  the “layered reverberations of childhood hymns” (“Long gone lonesome”).  In their sway between blue’s refrains and the language of depiction, the poems in Indian Summer Recycling are beautifully true in their anguish.
                                    —Claudia Keelan

If the word takes root, & the phrase finds traction to stay on the page, as we read along we thank Nathan Hauke for giving us the trail that is Indian Summer Recycling.  A way into words that deepens our joy, gratitude, & clarity for our impermanent life in this world.  Composting the ghostly reverberations of what is heard, & seen.  Composing, decomposing, partnering in the dance of presence and absence.  A poetry where even the cross-outs sing (softly).  This is a beautiful blues music—of Robert Johnson, Bob Dylan, & John Milton—reclaiming the moment when spirit speaks, speaking through the moment most clearly in its erasure, its disappearance.  Places peopled deeply.  A sustaining domesticity, an undercurrent of familial affection.  Hauke’s is an ethical way of writing, with deep roots in early American literature.  The way to the heights is word by word, step by step.

—Hank Lazer



Tuesday, September 3, 2019

First words/ we've got a barcode! 


I am so grateful for Claudia Keelan's kind words about Indian Summer Recycling (forthcoming from The Magnificent Field this fall); they help me move into the wake of these poems as a reader.
"Nathan Hauke’s Indian Summer Recycling reminds us that the ethics of recycling inscribe also a loss of origin. In the world of things—which includes people, and the language in which we describe those things— hierarchy vanishes. Animal, mineral, and ultimately refuse, things are themselves the evidence of their use and reuse. Finally, everything is nature. Though forever in the present tense, hope—or perhaps simply tenderness?—Hauke’s attention lives in the pivot between the desire to 'Love what’s gone/Ahead into new noise and affection' and the 'layered reverberations of childhood hymns' ('Long gone lonesome'). In their sway between blue’s refrains and the language of depiction, the poems in Indian Summer Recycling are beautifully true in their anguish."

PS-We've got a barcode!