Tag Archives: Meredith Quartermain

Photos from the Robson Farewell Reading

          There was a full house for the farewell Robson Reading on Thursday, March 14. Many thanks to Kristen Wong, Dina Del Bracchia, Shirley Stevenson, and Anne-Mary Mullen, who organized this reading, to the tech people who videotaped it, and to my co-readers, Barry Webster and Andrew Kaufman.
          Here’s a slideshow of photos that I took at the reading. Thanks to Meredith Quartermain for taking the photos of me.

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Camille Martin

Thumbs-up to 11 poetry books (and so many more)

          This year, Steve Evans of the University of Maine invited me to participate in the tenth anniversary of Attention Span, in which eighty poets list the eleven books that influenced them the most in 2012 (not necessarily published in 2012).
          Click the image below to go to the complete list of my choices. I was just getting warmed up when I had already used up my allotted eleven books. I could have listed so many more. Have a look at the lists of other poets while you’re at the site, and stay tuned to Attention Span for the annual tally of votes.


Camille Martin

LOOMS now at SPD

Always happy when my books arrive at Small Press Distribution!

Poetry. The title of LOOMS signifies the weaving tool as well as the shadowing appearance of something. These “woven tales” were inspired by Barbara Guest’s statement that a tale “doesn’t tell the truth about itself; it tells us what it dreams about.” The strands of their surreal allegories converse, one idea giving rise to another, and the paths of their dialogue become the fabric of the narrative. In a second meaning, something that looms remains in a state of imminent arrival. Such are these tales, like parables with infinitely deferred lessons.

“In tightly woven tapestry, Martin’s ‘backstreet songs’ re-invent a music of knowledge that navigates the hucksterism and catastrophe threatening our planet. The movement of her threads is fugue-like, punctuated by oboes and clarinets, mockingbirds and cicadas. Here, in the dream-space of time-lapse film, forms of life and ideas collide and morph, rippling through centuries of human consciousness to unravel as quickly as they ravel. Here, above all, Martin makes it possible to dance among our ‘origins in snake oil,’ our ‘crusades to mirages’ and our ‘accidental fictions’.”—Meredith Quartermain

“A dreamscape on the outskirts of town, ‘in the badlands of the vernacular,’ these hopeful, haunted poems populated by children and prisoners ‘hover between’ realms domestic and exterior, real and imagined. Like candles described herein, this book gives off a melting, tactile glow.”—Arielle Greenberg


Camille Martin