Events & Reviews at This Ain’t The Rosedale Library

Some Kind of Cheese Orgy: a poetry reading with Linh Dinh, a.rawlings and Angela Szczepaniak

Posted in Events, Past events by thisaintblog on January 20, 2010

lindinhTuesday, February 2 – 7pm, in store. Admission to this event is FREE. But we will pass the hat – the magical hat. Join us for a special literary event at This Ain’t the Rosedale Library, featuring Vietnamese-American poet Linh Dinh and local poets a.rawlings and Angela Szczepaniak.

ABOUT LINH DINH
Linh Dinh is the author of two collections of stories, Fake House (2000) and Blood and Soap (2004), and five books of poems, All Around What Empties Out (2003), American Tatts (2005), Borderless Bodies (2006) Jam Alerts (2007) and Some Kind of Cheese Orgy (2009). His work has been anthologized in Best American Poetry 2000, 2004, 2007 and Great American Prose Poems from Poe to the Present, among many other places. Linh Dinh is also the editor of the anthologies Night, Again: Contemporary Fiction from Vietnam (1996) and Three Vietnamese Poets (2001), and translator of Night, Fish and Charlie Parker, the poetry of Phan Nhien Hao (2006). Blood and Soap was chosen by the Village Voice as one of the best books of 2004.

“Reading Linh Dinh is a tonic and a revelation. His poems might have taken off the top of Dickinson’s head, and then some. Linh Dinh raids and reinvents the language with an ardor bordering on delirium.” — Rachel Loden

“Linh Dinh’s is a unique voice in contemporary American literature. He writes with the raging wit and the soul of a poet.” — Jessica Hagedorn

“Linh Dinh is one of the most consistently surprising writers around. One can find sources & roots for his writing, explain the traces of surrealism through the presence, say, of the French in Vietnam (tho they were driven out a decade before he was born), note that he is hardly the only good or successful Vietnamese American poet, let alone the only poet to come from a working class background, yet he is not writing “about” or even “toward” nor “from” any one of these contexts so much as he is through them – they are lenses, filters, that condition his perspective on everyday life. Imagine what any other poet with this strong a sense of form would have had to become in order to write such poetry. Ted Berrigan, for example. Berrigan shares Linh’s class background, which enables him to be as ruthless in a different way as Linh is in his. But the comparison stops there. Linh is writing straightforward poetry, but from a perspective shared by almost no one else. This kind of exile is far deeper than mere geography. Reading Borderless Bodies, you can feel Linh’s deep loneliness on every page & realize that there are aspects of his poetry that you can’t find anywhere else. We probably haven’t had a writer this singular since the death of William Burroughs.”
— Ron Silliman

ABOUT THE ANGELAS
a.rawlings is a poet, editor and multidisciplinary artist. In 2001, she received the bpNichol Award for Distinction in Writing upon graduating from York University. rawlings co-organized the Lexiconjury Reading Series, worked for The Mercury Press, and has lead copious writing workshops. Her first book, Wide slumber for lepidopterists (Coach House Books, 2006), received an Alcuin Award for Book Design. rawlings recently received a Chalmers Arts Fellowship; she has used it to spend time in Belgium and Iceland developing three new manuscripts and collaborating on sound and kinetic poetry. rawlings continues to split her life experiences between Belgium, Canada, and Iceland.

Angela Szczepaniak’s writing has appeared in Mad Hatter’s Review, Pilot, P-Queue, Phoebe and FOURSQUARE, among other journals and anthologies. She recently participated in a hygiene-themed poetry-art project with LOCCAL, and as a result some of her work can be found on placards in the better public restrooms of Seattle. She studies and teaches at the State University of New York at Buffalo, and lives mainly in Toronto. Szczepaniak’s debut poetry collection, Unisex Love Poems, combines fiction, poetry, etiquette advice, slapstick legal antics, and gruesomely illustrated recipes for sweetbreads and love letters into a parody of manners and conduct. An autopsy of language, it makes you savour the visceral, tangible quality of the word.

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