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A review by jessferg
Indecency by Justin Phillip Reed
3.0
I'm fascinated by these poems even though I only understand about a half dozen (and the three stars simply reflects that confusion on my part.)
There's something Reed does here with recognizable words that turns them into a new language. The highlight is that whatever he's done, it emphasizes how volatile and emotional a simple word - or sound - can be. How it engages our senses, almost involuntarily, and transmits some meaning we may not even be able to grasp. Unfortunately, Reed's language doesn't come with a translator and so at times the reader is lost in a sea of Reed's very personal connections and emotions that we may not share.
I've probably spent hours over the last year or so that I've owned this book just contemplating phrases like "...dust of my flagellation pillows..." which seem like they're understandable until the next phrase catches you off guard because it doesn't go where you thought it was headed.
I don't know that I would generally call reading a "sensation" but these poems are definitely the strangest sensation to read.
Maybe I'll figure them out one day, but probably it doesn't matter if I do.
There's something Reed does here with recognizable words that turns them into a new language. The highlight is that whatever he's done, it emphasizes how volatile and emotional a simple word - or sound - can be. How it engages our senses, almost involuntarily, and transmits some meaning we may not even be able to grasp. Unfortunately, Reed's language doesn't come with a translator and so at times the reader is lost in a sea of Reed's very personal connections and emotions that we may not share.
I've probably spent hours over the last year or so that I've owned this book just contemplating phrases like "...dust of my flagellation pillows..." which seem like they're understandable until the next phrase catches you off guard because it doesn't go where you thought it was headed.
I don't know that I would generally call reading a "sensation" but these poems are definitely the strangest sensation to read.
Maybe I'll figure them out one day, but probably it doesn't matter if I do.