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Every Minute Is First - Marie-Claire Bancquart

Every Minute Is First

Poems
Buch | Softcover
128 Seiten
2024
Milkweed Editions (Verlag)
978-1-63955-090-6 (ISBN)
CHF 23,90 inkl. MwSt
A penetrating and encompassing English-language translation from the celebrated French poet touching on death, domesticity, nature, language itself, and—always—the body.

French literary icon Marie-Claire Bancquart (1932–2019) is known for an uncanny inhabitation of the concrete, finding whole worlds, even afterlives, in daily instances and spaces. “If I could seize a little nothing / a bit of nothing,” she muses, “all things would come to me / those that dance / in its cloth.” The tiniest moments can be acts of utterance, defiance, communion, and immortality. Yet death does indeed appear in the everyday, though it’s more than a fact of existence. It is fiction as well, small cunning stories we create so we’re not merely waiting for it: “one sets / close by / the pot of orange flowers / the here and now / to block the view.”

Here, the infinitesimal has no end; the smaller life gets, the deeper and more carefully Bancquart has us pause to notice its offerings. Though for her “the body” is the surest, most trustworthy way of knowing, the mystery of language is often referenced, and reverenced. And translator Jody Gladding, an award-winning poet herself, beautifully carries forward Bancquart’s lifetime of distinctive work. Every Minute Is First is lean, lucid yet philosophical poetry, reflecting visceral life and experiential thought, walking in the dark with a light, lighting words—or alighting on them—in their own incandescent power to make the long-lived journey meaningful.

Marie-Claire Bancquart (1932–2019) is the author of Every Minute Is First and more than thirty other collections of poetry and several novels. In her lifetime she was the recipient of numerous prizes, including the Prix Supervielle, the Prix Max Jacob, and the Prix Robert Ganzo. Bancquart was also president of the French arts council La Maison de la Poésie and a professor emerita of the Université Paris-Sorbonne, where she taught French literature until her retirement in 1994. She lived in Paris for most of her life with her husband, Alain Bancquart, a musician and composer. Jody Gladding is a poet and translator with five books of poems and forty translations from French by authors such as Roland Barthes, Jean Giono, Julia Kristeva, and Pierre Michon. She has published three previous books with Milkweed Editions, including her own poetry in the books Rooms and Their Airs and Translations from Bark Beetle as well as a translation of Geneviève Damas’s novel If You Cross the River, which was a finalist for the PEN Translation Prize. She has won the Whiting Award, Yale Younger Poets Award, and numerous others for her poetry and was a finalist for the 2004 French-American Foundation Translation Prize with Jean Giono’s The Serpent of Stars. Gladding has taught in the MFA in Writing Program at Vermont College of Fine Arts and has lived in France for extended periods over the last twenty-five years. Her most recent poetry collection is I entered without words. She lives and works in East Calais, Vermont.

Preface

Other

In

On the Brink of Life

Yes, the Interval

Earth

Out of Scale

Forward

Falters, Wears Out

Grass Between the Lips

Alone

This Dark Tree

Red-Hot

In the woods leaves

If we speak in fables, it’s just

After having followed the formidable path, I will be

I hang my life

What is this face

What drives you

Black the water

The throat awakens full of dirt

When evening comes

Cut the round loaf, villager

Hearing

September, eleven o’clock in the morning, without you

Replanting the hellebore

I desire you in our time

Worried about

Twenty or thirty centuries ago

It’s sad

Scent of linden trees

At day’s end things join up

Under the curses of birds

—What did you say? Lost empires

Writing

Little breaths, the moments of our lives

Our presence

Our lungs breathe

The decorum of words

The patient in the recovery room

The poor stone I’m holding

Very dark matter

At that time, to represent an absurdity or strong emotion

Yes, heavy, the blood

The mirror retains

Into my spinal column

To be traversed

Tremble

As for me, I inhabited a large bird

How many trees in the course of this journey XXX

That trembling

I’m endlessly obsessed with one desire

Briefly

Each thing according to

On window panes, curtains, books, camp the invisible

 . . . At the border of the inexorable

No, I will not swallow

If I could seize a little nothing

Yes, I sank

I came back to life. Oh, monorail world, transport me

Don’t descend

There are bruised words

Strange, the objects in certain categories

You know what it means

Can we

Inhale the strong odor of the streets

We don’t want

Against my cheek

“See you shortly, in the unknown”

To the heights of incandescence

When do you want to divorce yourself

When I think of you, I transform into tree-lined paths

I don’t believe in heaven

To approach a word

Every minute is first, when the garden

As though

Return the love of the least things

For the music of stones

—And nevertheless I pressed against your face my own  

You’ve got a run in your peritoneum

Sitting in the park

Collect a seed

We’re always holding the end of the world, no matter where

A very ripe apricot gets smashed

Pain: explosion, spasms

What have you done, if not

I’m writing a letter to I don’t know whom

In my body there’s

Holes in the bark

Every morning I form

Don’t wake me sleeper

Small noise, rain

Following the edge of an island

. . . But so far off, so unrealized, the peace I’m seeking

New world

End-of-life accompanist

It’s possible/impossible

With your chagrin, you meant to stay alone

It’s as if there were an earth above

. . . But what if it were absurd, our turmoil

Sick

Then a scene imposes itself upon you, impossibly banal: a man

She doesn’t have a name

How I searched for you, life

Why this feeling of exile

A very large white pigeon

These are my “Sorrows” I’m writing

So soft, the gray of the sky sometimes occupied by white

Nevertheless love

As if the earth

In a little while, I will no longer be, you will no longer be

Notes

Erscheinungsdatum
Übersetzer Jody Gladding
Zusatzinfo Illustrations
Verlagsort Minneapolis
Sprache englisch
Maße 139 x 215 mm
Themenwelt Literatur Lyrik / Dramatik Lyrik / Gedichte
ISBN-10 1-63955-090-9 / 1639550909
ISBN-13 978-1-63955-090-6 / 9781639550906
Zustand Neuware
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