Motherland - by Sally Thomas (Paperback)
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<p/><br></br><p><b> About the Book </b></p></br></br>Sally Thomas's Motherland keenly observes the ephemeral and the everlasting in the lens of time-the daily into seasonal transformations, the gifts and wonders of nature and people. Motherland by turns hails and interrogates in matters of flesh, of faith and spirituality-especially so in the "Richeldis of Walsingham" poem sequence.<p/><br></br><p><b> Book Synopsis </b></p></br></br><p>In Sally Thomas's <em>Motherland</em><em>, </em>the poet keenly observes the ephemeral and the everlasting in the lens of time--the daily into seasonal transformations, the gifts and wonders of nature and people. <em>Motherland</em> by turns hails and interrogates in matters of flesh, of faith and spirituality--especially so in the "Richeldis of Walsingham" poem sequence. This finalist in the Able Muse Book Award is a collection abounding in insight, hope, grace, surprises, and yes, love.</p> <p><b>PRAISE FOR <em>MOTHERLAND</em>: </b></p> <p>A core of spiritual knowledge resides in the poems of Sally Thomas's <em>Motherland</em>-- knowledge that might seem strange to the poet herself, in fact, though it definitely resides in her, and radiates throughout this collection. <em>Motherland</em> is the perfect title, since the poet, herself a mother, regards all her human occupations as native and yet mysterious, occurring in a place which is both foreign and familiar. The final sequence, on Richeldis of Walsingham, includes lines that describe the expression of that knowledge, as "the eloquence/ Of the small river moving always forward to the unseen/ Sea." <em>Motherland</em> is a book of the presence--radiant, benevolent, challenging--for which there is often no word, except as we find in poetry, like the poetry of Sally Thomas."<br> --Mark Jarman, author of <em>The Heronry</em></p> <p>The poems of Sally Thomas are poems in which the act of <em>looking</em> at the world in all its depth and complexity is just about as close as possible to being fully realized in the corresponding "world" of poetic language and form. And the verses are compelling because in every line something is <em>at stake</em>: our very understanding of creation, the human condition, and the mystery of thought and its language that link us, however imperfectly, to what may be called the <em>given</em> world. As Thomas says in "Frost," "Tricky winter light and my own eye/ Bend the world, if not to beauty, then/ To strangeness."<br> --David Middleton (from the foreword), author of <em>The Fiddler of Driskill Hill</em></p> <p>In her most recent collection of poems, <em>Motherland</em>, Sally Thomas gives us a world we live in but, alas, too often don't seem to see. So much is lost, these poems tell us, even as they manage to reinstate and re-imagine these losses for us. All poetry is elegiac, even as it can, in the hands of a serious poet, celebrate the very world which for all of us keeps slipping away in the great wheel of time. Then too there is her mastery of poetic form--among these the sonnet, the villanelle, the couplet, and her unparalleled command of rhyme and slant rhyme. What a delight to discover a poet who has found a way to allow the sacred and the sacramental inform her poems in a surprising range of contemporary idioms.<br> --Paul Mariani, author of <em>Epitaphs for the Journey</em></p> <p><b>ABOUT THE AUTHOR: </b></p> <p>Sally Thomas was born in Memphis, Tennessee, in 1964, and was educated at Vanderbilt University, the University of Memphis, and the University of Utah. She spent some years living in the American West and in Great Britain before settling in North Carolina, her current home. She is the author of two poetry chapbooks, <em>Fallen Water </em>(2015) and <em>Richeldis of Walsingham </em>(2016), both from Finishing Line Press. Over the last two decades, her poetry and fiction have appeared in <em>Dappled Things, First Things, Relief: A Journal of Art and Faith, Southern Poetry Review</em>, the <em>New Yorker</em>, the <em>Rialto</em>, and other journals in the United States and Great Britain.</p><p/><br></br><p><b> Review Quotes </b></p></br></br><br><p>A core of spiritual knowledge resides in the poems of Sally Thomas's <em>Motherland</em>-- knowledge that might seem strange to the poet herself, in fact, though it definitely resides in her, and radiates throughout this collection. <em>Motherland</em> is the perfect title, since the poet, herself a mother, regards all her human occupations as native and yet mysterious, occurring in a place which is both foreign and familiar. The final sequence, on Richeldis of Walsingham, includes lines that describe the expression of that knowledge, as "the eloquence/ Of the small river moving always forward to the unseen/ Sea." <em>Motherland</em> is a book of the presence--radiant, benevolent, challenging--for which there is often no word, except as we find in poetry, like the poetry of Sally Thomas."<br /> --Mark Jarman, author of <em>The Heronry</em></p><p>The poems of Sally Thomas are poems in which the act of <em>looking</em> at the world in all its depth and complexity is just about as close as possible to being fully realized in the corresponding "world" of poetic language and form. And the verses are compelling because in every line something is <em>at stake</em> our very understanding of creation, the human condition, and the mystery of thought and its language that link us, however imperfectly, to what may be called the <em>given</em> world. As Thomas says in "Frost," "Tricky winter light and my own eye/ Bend the world, if not to beauty, then/ To strangeness."<br /> --David Middleton (from the foreword), author of <em>The Fiddler of Driskill Hill</em></p><p>In her most recent collection of poems, <em>Motherland</em>, Sally Thomas gives us a world we live in but, alas, too often don't seem to see. So much is lost, these poems tell us, even as they manage to reinstate and re-imagine these losses for us. All poetry is elegiac, even as it can, in the hands of a serious poet, celebrate the very world which for all of us keeps slipping away in the great wheel of time. Then too there is her mastery of poetic form--among these the sonnet, the villanelle, the couplet, and her unparalleled command of rhyme and slant rhyme. What a delight to discover a poet who has found a way to allow the sacred and the sacramental inform her poems in a surprising range of contemporary idioms.<br /> --Paul Mariani, author of <em>Epitaphs for the Journey</em></p><br>
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