A pitch-perfect debut and a call to act in the service of Earth through radiant attention. Humankind, at present, has breached floodgates that have only been breached before in ancient stories of angry gods, or so far back on geologic and biological timelines as to seem more past than past. Against this catastrophic backdrop (at the end of consolations, at the high-water mark), and equipped with a periscopic eye and a sublime metaphorical reach, poet Dan MacIsaac has crowded his debut vessel with sloths and gipsy-birds, mummified remains and bumbling explorers, German expressionists and Neolithic cave-painters. MacIsaac knows that in order to render a thing in language, description itself must be open to metamorphosis and transformation; each thing must be seen alongside, overtop of, and underneath everything else that has been seen. With the predominant "I" of so many poetic debuts almost entirely absent, Cries from the Ark is catalogue and cartography of our common mortal - and moral - lot. "These poems are fecund as black dirt, as carnal and joyous. Each piece is an owl pellet, a concentrate of bone and tuft, of bison, auk and Beothuk. Not since Eric Ormsby's Araby have I read a book so empathic and so glossarily rich. Fair warning, I'll be stealing words from you for years." - Sharon McCartney "MacIsaac sings a raven's work, sings the guts from our myths, sings our world with the breath that 'for a century/ of centuries / only the wild grass / remembered.' Present but acquainted with antiquity, MacIsaac's instrument is our own breathing as we say these poems of reverence to ourselves." - Matt Rader
I enjoyed this book of poetry by Dan MacIsaac. I had not read any of his work previously but will look for other works by him. In his short lines of verse, he makes every word count and the images that result are clear and enticing. My favorite poem was the first one "Proverbs from the Ark". The lines, "Never send a raven to do a dove's work" for the opening and "Never send a dove to do a raven's work" at the end resonated with me. I was the lucky winner of this collection of poetry from a giveaway on the 49th Shelf.
The biggest problem with this collection of poems is that it takes itself very seriously, and sometimes this works and sometimes it doesn't. Fortunately, the author did not insist on making the book a bestiary in its entirety, because the same style would have been insufferable. On the contrary, the poems that were not about animals were usually the best.
Dan MacIsaac's collection of poetry in "Cries from the Ark" contains both vivid images and reminders to mankind regarding our environment and the various species that inhabit the earth.
Here is one of my favourites from the book:
Sea Star and Mussels:
At the tide's roiling, a sea star clambers over amoured lines, tapping, testing, stiff crinolines. Pentagon, bristling with crowbars, picks a black vice, and pries, seeking sweet, delicate parts shielded by hardened shards. Against the bright intruder's art, the mussel cannot resist--shells, urged and squeezed, crack apart. Dazzling Lucifer's gut everts, injects. It feeds. And sated, after, that arrogant shuirken welds fast to an ironshore boulder."