Set in transit even as they investigate the transitory, the cinematic poems in Love and I move like a handheld camera through the eternal, the minds of passengers, and the landscapes of Ireland and America. From this slight remove, Fanny Howe explores the edge of “pure seeing” and the worldly griefs she encounters there, cast in an otherworldly light. These poems layer pasture and tarmac, the skies above where airline passengers are compressed with their thoughts and the ground where miseries accumulate, alongside comedies, in the figures of children in a park.
Love can do little but walk with the person and suddenly vanish, and that recurrent abandonment makes it necessary for these poems to find a balance between seeing and believing. For Howe, that balance is found in the Word, spoken in language, in music, in and on the wind, as invisible and continuous lyric thinking heard by the thinker alone. These are poems animated by belief and unbelief. Love and I fulfills Howe's philosophy of Bewilderment.
“In Love and I, Howe leaves readers with a sense that much is left to be explored, not only in her poems but in the world outside our own associations. . . . In the wilds of associations that Howe produces, readers are sure to find both niches of rest and, simultaneously, calls to action. But perhaps our only responsibility is to wander.”—Ploughshares
“Love and I is a meander through a singular mind . . . Howe’s inquisitiveness, generosity, and care are easy to appreciate and impossible to resist.”—ZYZZYVA
“Readers ready to suspend expectations about what and how poems mean will delight in the transformations happening in these pages.”—Publishers Weekly
“In nearly every poem, the poet delves deeply. Her questing invites us to read and reread. For all academic and larger public library collections.”—Library Journal