Pharaoh, Pharaoh by Claudia Emerson My rating: 5 of 5 stars Claudia Emerson’s untimely death leaves me wondering what wonderful poetry she would have written. Luckily, we have a number of outstanding collections. “Pharaoh, Pharaoh,” while published nearly 20 years ago, remains a deeply moving collection of vignettes. Emerson faces death and illness with a cold eye for detail but a heart filled with empathy. The phrasing feels conversational, but then sudden brilliant gems arise: Veins as “the dispassionate cursive on the backs/of her hands.” A coffin “inhaled the earth.” A sewing needle” its only eye worn wide, diminishing.” She remembers a woman lost in death, imagining her (as we imagine Emerson) flooring the gas pedal on a wild car as she is “gone before/this fire consumes itself in the void from which she rises.” This is a fine collection, worth living with for some time. View all my reviews
