I await Lucie Brock-Broido’s forthcoming book, Stay, Illusion. Echoes, perhaps, of Vladimir Nabokov’s memoir, Speak, Memory?
How realistic is that thirteenth-century monk lucubrating in his dark anchorage! [“Extreme Wisteria,” December 2012] At least that’s how I read it while lucubrating.
Brock-Broido says she’s “wildly capable of certain linguistic fabrications.” Might a future one be, for instance, “The Running of the Nudes,” including (take heart!) Heathcliff, Ambrose B, along with Oscar and probably even Brodsky, who has, she assures us, a “beautiful assertion.” She did state her work can be “quirky.”
Thank you Poetry for the Christmas lollipop and Brock-Broido for the fun and exhilarating answers to the questions.