Why does a patternmaker crumple a plan? Fate has intervened, of course, and now circumstances require both grief for what has to be abandoned, and, after that, the slow joy of innovation to come. Deftly incorporating lines from a plethora of contemporary poets, B.E. Hunt weaves new ones, with a pure inventive dazzle, replicating the dilemma of the patternmaker, and transforming this collection of poems into a book about the saving nature of creativity itself. Rich and surprising, each poem shines with her zesty inspiration and capacious wisdom.
Molly Peacock |
In The Patternmaker’s Crumpled Plan the struggle to articulate has been turned into a series of conversations with other poems written by the likes of Jane Hirschfield, Don McKay and Sharon Thesen. The subject matter is mostly love— the lack of knowing how to live without it, the learning how to go beyond the outposts of hope. Barbara Hunt writes of “sawdust-sorrow” and “the somewhere-once,” a state where even “our toes have no more feelings.” These are stark, chiseled, deeply felt poems that take apart truth and trust with full knowledge that they will never completely be put back together again.
Barry Dempster |
The Pattern Maker’s Crumpled Plan charts how loss can transmute through grief and anger to wisdom and acceptance. The poet moves from images of selvedge to ones of salvage: initially, what the two have in common is how they “bind all but hold nothing,” but the poet moves to sifting through what is left, what can be saved from a wreckage. Many of Hunt’s poems are a kind of glosa into which she stitches lines from other poets, creating a collection bound at its selvedge edges with a fine poetic sensibility.
Maureen Hynes |