<p/><br></br><p><b> Book Synopsis </b></p></br></br><p>In Anthony Carelli's remarkable debut, <i>Carnations</i>, the poems attempt to reanimate dead metaphors as blossoms: wild and lovely but also fleeting, mortal, and averse to the touch. Here, the poems are carnations, not only flowers, but also body-making words. Nodding to influences as varied as George Herbert, Francis Ponge, Fernando Pessoa, and D. H. Lawrence, Carelli asserts that the poet's materials--words, objects, phenomena--are sacred, wilting in the moment, yet perennially renewed. Often taking titles from a biblical vocabulary, <i>Carnations</i> reminds us that unremarkable places and events--a game of Frisbee in a winter park, workers stacking panes in a glass factory, or the daily opening of a café--can, in a blink, be new. A short walk home is briefly transformed into a cathedral, and the work-worn body becomes a dancer, a prophet, a muse.<br>______ <p/><br><b>From <i>Carnations</i>: <br>THE PROPHETS</b><br><i>Anthony Carelli</i> <p/>A river. And if not the river nearby, then a dream<br>of a river. Nothing happens that doesn't happen<br>along a river, however humble the water may be. <p/>Take Rowan Creek, the trickle struggling to lug<br>its mirroring across Poynette, wherein, suspended, <br>so gentle and shallow, I learned to walk, bobbing <p/>at my father's knees. Later, whenever we tried<br>to meander on our inner tubes, we'd get lodged<br>on the bottom. Seth, remember, no matter how we'd <p/>kick and shove off, we'd just get lodged again?<br>At most an afternoon would carry us a hundred feet<br>toward the willows. We'd piss ourselves on purpose <p/>just to feel the spirits of our warmth haloing out.<br>And once, two bald men on the footbridge, bowing<br>in the sky, stared down at us without a word.</p><p/><br></br><p><b> Review Quotes </b></p></br></br><br><i>Carnations</i> pays homage to the poet's masters and ushers in an exciting new talent. . . . This wonderful collection is as good a guide as they get.<b>---Piotr Florczyk, <i>On the Seawall blog</i></b><br><br>[A] promisingly talented writer.<b>---Benjamin Ivry, <i>Newark Star-Ledger</i></b><br><br>[Carelli] is able to write in a way that allows for the sublime and the absurd to come together. But Carelli's free-flowering humour never distracts from his purpose and the ending is masterly. . . . Reading these uncommonly fluent poems is like being on a raft in a fast river. It is rewarding to go with the flow, trust and keep the faith (as Carelli tries to do).<b>---Kate Kellaway, <i>The Observer</i></b><br><br>Carelli's debut introduces a voice as refreshingly contemporary as it is pleasantly expansive in its subject matter. . . . The results are as elegant and eloquent as they are humane and believable.-- "Publishers Weekly"<br><br>In the symbology of flowers, carnations in general indicate affection. There is no poem entitled 'Carnations' in Carelli's first collection. But affection is its master mood, the affection of a vital young man for the world of his experience. . . . They're real experiences, conducive to mixed feelings, yet Carelli writes of them in language so enlivening and fresh that they become blessings.<b>---Ray Olson, <i>Booklist</i></b><br><br>Warm, conversational and colloquial.<b>---Keith Richmond, <i>Tribune</i></b><br><br>Finalist for the 2012 Levis Reading Prize, Virginia Commonwealth University<br><br>This is a magnificent book. . . . Ooh! God bless these poems!<b>---Raphael Allison, <i>Rain Taxi Review of Books</i></b><br><br>Winner of a 2015 Whiting Award, Whiting Foundation<br><p/><br></br><p><b> About the Author </b></p></br></br><b>Anthony Carelli</b> was raised in Poynette, Wisconsin, and studied at the University of Wisconsin-Madison before completing an MFA in poetry at New York University. His poems have appeared in various magazines, including the <i>New Yorker</i>. He lives in Brooklyn, New York. This is his first book.
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