"Lina Rydén Reynolds ”Read my lips” shows that poetry does not have a solidified"
"Poesidebatten as the Victor Ore initiated in Bucharest in January is interesting in every way. ”Something is missing”, ”poetry has lost its importance,” wrote the Ore, and I agree, but I do not think it is the new ”metaberättelser of poetry” (Expressen, 27 jan) we need, for who would write them in that case? A poetry of Moses, who stepped down from the mountain with the new commandments? "
"It is not poetry, but poesikritiken that are in crisis. And what is the reason for this crisis? (Now if we åsidolägger the fact that crises usually are good, because they bring change.) The more I think about it, the more convinced I become that it has to do with our time affektlösa reading of poetry, with the inability to define what poetry does with us, with our emotions, desires and bodies. "
"the Feeling of ”nothing at stake”, as Ore writes, I believe, will come from you as readers or critics dare not put himself in the game. For this, one simply needs to reset themselves before the poem, face it on its terms and conditions, marvel at the face of its mysteries and enter into a true relationship with the text."
"the other Day I read Lina Rydén Reynolds Read my lips. It is the first book of the new Modernista-affiliated publisher Nirstedt given out. "
"What did it with me? It got me to want to go with the Yellow västarnas march in Paris and begin to see everything they had written on their västryggar as poetry. It got me to refuse to have sex with an attractive man who tried to write like Baudelaire, and was completely uninterested in contemporary poetry. It made me start to look at people's lip movements, listening between the lines, tystnaderna. "
"Certainly, their appearance so similar to a typical språkmaterialistisk reflection on language, which lays bare both the public, förlagsvärldens but also the intimate interpersonal language and violent nature."
"Sometimes it flows, these levels of proficiency together, sometimes they remain apart, overexposed, as the book's tillblivningsprocess and cost, which are reproduced on the back in detail. Phenomenon absurdiseras, is rotated in and out like a sock, rolled up, in order to give rise to groups of words as: ”your Mouth makes the eye”, ”When I received the payment for your care, I kept the”, ”Beräkningskapitalismen see us”. Some sentences are biting themselves in the tail: ”Tell me what you just said so I can say it even to you”, the other is more begreppsuttömmande: ”the Categories of the berries themselves. In the breed race. The fall.” Löshängande questions such as ”how long will you die?” are interspersed with the categorical assertions as: ”there's Nothing to know”. "
"there is also winks to Gertrude Stein to dance with the redundancies: ”It is is a statement of the = affidavit = affidavit = affidavit = affidavit”. When poetry eventually turns into prose, let Rydén Reynold often each sentence cancel the previous one: ”The German cannibal said it: it's all about love. No, enough is enough. A flat wish. Becomes dirt. Passes. Before someone said there was not. Before someone said it, it was just my voice reading it. My reading in front of others. I will be hunting. Painful of hunting. Emerges”."
"Some passages are so hermetic that my brain overheats, but it should hurt to read. The good poetry is always evil in the sense. Its undandragningsmekanismer can cleave, and even dismiss the reader, but it is here that poetry comes very close to contemporary art, at its best – it forces the reader to simply hang out with their non-understanding. I is cleaved, activated and surrenders to end, aware that this strange text, it will escape me. "
"But the realization relieves me and makes me said to act in new ways. Don't ask me how or why. Some things are like poetry – they can't explain. So no, Victor Malm, poetry has not solidified, it is only we, who solidified the face of it."