WHOEVER DROWNED HERE

Translator Bell offers a long-overdue introduction of German poet Sessner to English-speaking readers.

The collection contains poems in three parts, drawn from three of Sessner’s previous books, with a fourth dedicated to new poems. The poet’s minimalist style marks all the works, which are devoid of punctuation and provide multiple images within a single line. Prospects of death haunt Part I, from Kitchens and Trains; in “Man With Dog,” the speaker observes a lonely man and his pet walking in the fields, playing fetch: “I’ve a notion that / one time instead of a stick / the dog brought the / whole forest and then / into it they both / disappeared.” Themes of family and identity permeate Part II, from Why Especially Today. At Grandpa’s 80th birthday celebration, “every adult is / a short rhyming poem,” and “the children scurry like / commas” (“In the Circle of the Family”). Part III, from The Water of Yesterday, examines aging; “While Leaving the Café” contrasts the grandmothers of many poems with an observation of the lightness of youth: “The girl takes the / umbrella or / does the umbrella take / the girl.” In “A Landscape,” the speaker ponders the trainlike oncoming of old age. Over the course of this collection, Sessner’s inclination toward enjambment and sparse use of stanzas encourage readers to trust the speakers, and the poems always lead to a striking close. The stark form belies intricate layers of actuality and vision. Part IV, from New, also blurs distinctions among dream, memory, and impression. The abundance of seemingly incongruous imagery is heightened in these poems; in “Flowers,” for example, the speaker describes moments after waking, still engrossed in the world of the dream: “someone is binding / flowers into a bouquet it’s the / one for my mother that / I’m to pick up I often awaken / exactly at this point and / feel in the dark for my / glasses as if I’d be able / to see the ending.”

A vivid anthology of poems in which everyday events are infused by speakers’ inner lives.