The Dark Is Closest to the Moon

James Magner

One of five books for which Magner was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize (with no success), The Dark Is Closest to the Moon is, above all, an odd little book. Magner flirts with the lyric, the surreal, formalism and free verse, all with some success. But the poems herein seem almost jumbled together to showcase these various experiments, leading to a book with little continuity; it's as if there are fragments of six or seven books here, and the edges jar.

The individual poems themselves can be, and usually are, quite nice on their own Manger often writes in a style that is best labelled “archaic;” his prosody and word choice hearken back to nothing so much as the Victorian era, many times. He juxtaposes this language with contemporary thoughts, feelings, actions, and objects, and yet somehow it never comes off as odd (or, worse, precious).

“…O cannot resolve
whence comes the lyric night of dance
and the barking incisor dogs
flashing in the dark.
But I seek the dance and song
and bathe of that river…”
(“And Leave the Barking Dogs to Their Own Savage Bark”)

Magner has, at least in this book, something of an affection for Herman Melville (all well and good, and he does Melville well; my problem with it is my own), so those who despise Moby Dick as much as I do may want to beware. But overall this is an interesting, if somewhat disjointed, collection.