A review by frasersimons
If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho by Sappho

No idea how to evaluate this really. I’ve read like 5 books of poetry, and every time it’s been clear it’s not how my brain is really wired. This, though, has a bunch of incomprehensible gibberish sometimes— as an exercise I tried processing what was there. It’s just not how my brain works. And that feels like a pretty central tenet of consuming this, so I won’t rate it. Wouldn’t know what to rate it, otherwise. Some of the times it was moving, some of the time it was meaningless.