Most Read... John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Joshua WeinerAn Exchange with Daniel Tiffany/Fall 2020
(PN Review 259)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Christopher MiddletonNotes on a Viking Prow
(PN Review 10)
Next Issue Kirsty Gunn re-arranges the world John McAuliffe reads Seamus Heaney's letters and translations Chris Price's 'Songs of Allegiance' David Herman on Aharon Appelfeld Victoria Moul on Christopher Childers compendious Greek and Latin Lyric Book Philip Terry again answers the question, 'What is Poetry'
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This review is taken from PN Review 191, Volume 36 Number 3, January - February 2010.

John F. DeaneTHE NIGHTMARE OF A MAD GOD ANISE KOLTZ, At the Edge of Night, translated from French by Anne-Marie Glasheen (Arc Publications)

Anise Koltz has been the leading poet in Luxembourg for many years and the publication of this selection from her four most recent titles is a timely gift to English readers; it is also deftly chosen, essentially dual-language, translated with skill, understanding and love. Koltz is the founder of Luxembourg’s most important literary festival, Les journées de Mondorf, and co-founder of the European Academy of Poetry of which she is now honorary president. Her commitment to poetry, then, is whole and unselfish. She has won several major European awards for her own work.

This work is unique, particularly amongst Francophone poets, in its form and technique and in its linguistic precision and clarity. Eschewing all established verse forms, decorations, rhyme or even rhythm, she develops her themes in a series of brief, acute observations. It is the striking thought and imagery of these outbursts, and the cumulative effect of the stab-like blows, that leave her work reverberating through the reader’s sensibilities. She began writing in German, but her husband’s death - he never fully recovered from his experience as a prisoner of the Nazis - made her continuing to use that language impossible. But she carries into French the immediacy and precision of German poetry, with a particularity, a haecceitas, that leaves French abstraction stunned and embarrassed. The progress of her brief poems, usually linked into a sequence, moves forward almost with a sense of the movement of couplets, as in Pope or Dryden, chipping at her ...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image