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brice_mo 's review for:
Ecstasy: Poems
by Alex Dimitrov
Thanks to NetGalley and Knopf for the ARC!
For better or worse, Alex Dimitrov’s Ecstasy reads like an addendum to his earlier (and wonderful) work, Love and Other Poems, and interested readers might benefit more from simply revisiting that collection.
As always, Dimitrov’s voice is an absolute pleasure to read. It’s musical and playful without ever feeling twee, and he articulates a kind of gentle hedonism that suits the subject matter well. That said, the organizing theme of “ecstasy” just doesn’t seem capable of sustaining the collection.
Within the speaker’s world, ecstasy isn’t the euphoric release readers might expect. Instead, it’s a momentary pinch of something both listless and lonely. It’s recognition of transcendent potential without its attainment. For the first few poems, this definition seems to suggest an interrogation of how we elevate certain experiences, but it quickly becomes clear that the concept is too vague to really be a theme.
After a while, the poems begin to bleed together into shapeless recollections of substance-fueled hookups with arbitrary religious iconography thrown in for good measure. When the speaker describes doing a line of coke off of a crucifix, it feels less like a comment on parallels between drugs and religion and more like an outmoded attempt at provocation. Eventually, all the poems accumulate without forming any shape. One could argue that the poet’s intent is to deliberately withhold catharsis—that ecstasy is defined by its impossibility—but it reads more like an editor just realized there were finally enough pieces to fill a book.
Despite these criticisms, Dimitrov remains a formidable poet, and individual poems are simply a delight. “Monday” and “1995” are particular standouts, and I wish I had found them without the baggage of the surrounding collection. For readers who want to check out Ecstasy, it may be more rewarding to simply flip through it rather than approach it as body of work.
For better or worse, Alex Dimitrov’s Ecstasy reads like an addendum to his earlier (and wonderful) work, Love and Other Poems, and interested readers might benefit more from simply revisiting that collection.
As always, Dimitrov’s voice is an absolute pleasure to read. It’s musical and playful without ever feeling twee, and he articulates a kind of gentle hedonism that suits the subject matter well. That said, the organizing theme of “ecstasy” just doesn’t seem capable of sustaining the collection.
Within the speaker’s world, ecstasy isn’t the euphoric release readers might expect. Instead, it’s a momentary pinch of something both listless and lonely. It’s recognition of transcendent potential without its attainment. For the first few poems, this definition seems to suggest an interrogation of how we elevate certain experiences, but it quickly becomes clear that the concept is too vague to really be a theme.
After a while, the poems begin to bleed together into shapeless recollections of substance-fueled hookups with arbitrary religious iconography thrown in for good measure. When the speaker describes doing a line of coke off of a crucifix, it feels less like a comment on parallels between drugs and religion and more like an outmoded attempt at provocation. Eventually, all the poems accumulate without forming any shape. One could argue that the poet’s intent is to deliberately withhold catharsis—that ecstasy is defined by its impossibility—but it reads more like an editor just realized there were finally enough pieces to fill a book.
Despite these criticisms, Dimitrov remains a formidable poet, and individual poems are simply a delight. “Monday” and “1995” are particular standouts, and I wish I had found them without the baggage of the surrounding collection. For readers who want to check out Ecstasy, it may be more rewarding to simply flip through it rather than approach it as body of work.