A book of poems or, shhh, a verse play, originally published in the UK nine years ago but only now appearing in the US, by the always rewarding Alice Oswald is ever a cause of celebration. Oswald’s brief introduction begins, “This is not a play.” And, of course, this is not a pipe, he says puffing on the stem of a contraption that at its opposite end has a bowlful of lit cherry tobacco. Why the insistence? There are characters here (but so there are in Dart, Ms. Oswald’s amazing poem about the river of that name) and a prologue and sections that could be scenes or acts, in which character interact with one another, but that are not numbered but titled by moon phases: New Moon, Half Moon, Full Moon, No Moon, Moon Reborn. There is also humor of a theatrical kind.
So were it a play you might think of Stoppard or Dylan Thomas’s Under Milkwood. But by the end of this slender volume I wasn’t thinking as much of Stoppard or Thomas but of the South African artist William Kentridge and some of his own genre defying video art works that are animated dance dramas, progressing across the room in looping sequences that mystify and captivate viewers as they go around and then around again. Oswald performs a similar magic with words. She calls it “a poem in several registers, set at night on the Severn Estuary.” Whatever it is or isn’t, it’s a treat to read.