Dialogue, by Vincent Spina
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Dialogue, by Vincent Spina
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Poet Vincent Spina has lived most of his life between two continents: North and South America. As one would suspect, therefore, there is a degree of “Spanglish” not only in the language of these poems but in the allusions to South American poets: namely, Cesar Vallejo and Pablo Neruda, but mostly Vallejo, much of whose poetry borders the line of what is possible to express in words and the inexpressible that waits just beyond. Juan Ramón Jiménez, a Spanish poet, asked in his poetry for the name of things (el nombre exacto de las cosas). And this exact name, the one we may never pronounce, is what Spina alludes to in these poems: the long name of things, the name that is born with us at our birth and grows as we grow and dies with us when we die. This is the name that defines us or indentifies us at our essence -- if there is an essence. There is another continent involved in these poems, too: Italy, the country of the poet’s grandparents, which he visited while working on this book. As Spina elaborates: “I grew up with ways of thinking that were not ‘wholly’ American but rather had leaked into my consciousness -- perhaps my conscience -- through other sources. The last part of the book deals with other sources and their meanings. For instance, the tarantella is not the folksy stereotypical dance with which an Italian American wedding ends. Its rhythm is hypnotic. Its purpose is to put the dancers into a trance in which rituals of life and death are reenacted: moments of love, of passion, of honor. Its name refers to a tarantula--really a large spider--because within the trance the dancers thrash around their arms and legs like those of a frenzied spider. Thus, my aim was to “de-stereotype” the dance and “reveal” its original “mystery”. Heidegger writes that for the Greeks, truth was revelation. Thus I wished in these poems to unveil certain truths about my people and about myself.”
Dialogue, by Vincent Spina- Amazon Sales Rank: #3707417 in Books
- Published on: 2015-03-11
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 9.00" h x .23" w x 6.00" l, .32 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 90 pages
About the Author Vincent Spina was born in Brooklyn, New York. He received his Ph.D. from New York University in Latin American and Brazilian Literature, and is a Professor Emeritus of Modern Languages and Cultures. His poems have appeared in various magazines over the years, and his first book of poetry, Outer Borough, was published in 2008. He is also the author of El Modo Epico en José María Arguedas, a study of the Peruvian author’s novels and their basis in the cosmology of the Andean people of Peru. His articles on Latin American writers have appeared in various magazines and anthologies.
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0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Dialogue arc By MZ Across many of his Dialogue poems, Vin Spina links lifelong memories with earthscapes via analogies metamorphing as dream, jumping from and across childhood and loved ones’ experiences to cosmological, religious or political speculation in rhythms that sweep us into the surprising similarities. These rhythms dodge the static, ride the fluidity, melding personae across time waves’ ebb and flow. In “East End”, the cyclicality of death and new life on ocean shores and in family generations spark eternity questions in the ephemera around and within us: ”corrugated scallop shells”, “the question/ of observer and observed .../ ... like an unrequited sea-worm/ through ocean bottom”, “how the shore/ is an endless graveyard of mollusk/ and crustacean shells, and ground/ of endless restoration.” Within this “vocabulary of waves”, grief may be a starting point, recurrent, but not the end point: post-mortality is probed in ambivalent, yet open-ended analogies in biology, cosmology, consciousness, whose mysteries aren’t fixated on grief, seen as recurring theme in the wider cycle. In “Sycamores in Winter”, “a long name for things” like that of the “Susquehannock” for the sycamore, involving animus/anima intertwining, history and interrelations woven like its twin trunks and then branches over river, eco-logically, twisting beyond modern isolation and alienation. The multicultural, multi-temporal, wide range of imagery embeds historical, geological, marine, cosmological, microcosmic, social, personal, familial, interpersonal, arboreal, often seriously, often playfully explored links, always in depth. Often, his images are as suggestive of the ineffable as one might hope to be, about bereavement, about the continuity of human evolution: familial, ecological, cosmological links are rarely evaded, considering the recurrence of wave across millennia and human choice. In “Rocca di Neto”, we’re drawn across history and pre-, as time peaks merge or blend in wave of water and wind carving rock, so that we live in ancient patterns still. Adept juxtapositioning of contrasting images that disclose an equipoise of contradictory opposites, analogies recognizing that child is not just a reiteration of mother, but of kinetic combine of mother and father, ancestors and siblings. The “in memoriam” pieces especially concentrate on the merging of selves, personalities, dreams, memories, speculations. Rarely monologue, the lines incorporate or twine into other voices, polyphonically, at times even contrapuntally: voices abutting, but absorbing each other, as in Plato’s Symposium myth of each other half, that search not immune to eternal wave. The poems enact “dialogue” between wave and mind, progeny and progenitors, toward modi vivendi modern and ancient, jump-cutting across time and personae. Michael Zucaro
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. through this poetry collection I come to understand better how words carry within themselves color and motion alongside ... By Always Asking By training I was a symphony cellist who evolved into a mathematician. For me words serve primarily to report facts; I never explored their use to convey matters of the heart. What sensory and emotional information that appeared on my radar were adequately addressed by the hints in the shadows cast by classical plot lines and conventional harmonies.I was introduced to Vincent Spina through a mutual friend during a life chapter which defied such neat packaging. I had become interested in poetry and my interest was piqued by the description of his work, "...At once surreal in the tradition of ..., language-infused in the tradition of..., it is encyclopedic in its spectrum of ....."To keep this review personal I will remark for those who have ears to hear that with a bit of well-rewarded effort, the poems I've sampled thus far illuminate the formerly inscrutable-to-me music of the French impressionists. In particular, while reading the first poem, "Bottle," I found myself rocked by Debussy's "La Mer."In short, through this poetry collection I come to understand better how words carry within themselves color and motion alongside meaning.
0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Much like a master weaver composes intricate patterns and pictorial depictions ... By Nancy Lee Bennett Vincent Spina’s book Dialogue is similar to an exquisite rare tapestry. Much like a master weaver composes intricate patterns and pictorial depictions on canvases, Vincent Spina’s poetry reads like fine golden threads, intertwining his passions, heritage, triumphs, and failures, on manuscripts, conceived deep within his heart and soul. His style is conversational and very unconventional. When Vincent Spina writes: ” Listen…The message on the screen is for you. My hope is that you take it over, plan something in the margin or in the interim to make it yours.” He captivates the reader, enticing them in a sort of tête-à-tête.Dialogue is thought provoking ….Vincent Spina writes… “One: It’s what remains when the autopsy ends…” here he challenges the reader’s interpretation, not only in the intellectual aspect, but also in the philosophical, and psychological realms as well. His knowledge and range are measureless…from thoughts on mortality, to mawkish writings of his Brooklyn roots, and Italian heritage, to unrequited love. His poetry is so unique that one does not merely read it…they experience it.
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