'Isolato' leaves room for dessert

By Amy Geurink

For the Daily

If you are a reader who enjoys eating words, then "Isolato" is a book for you. If, however, you expect those words to taste rich and satisfying, you might want to direct your appetite elsewhere. This collection of poems by University alum Larissa Szporluk presents an impressive entourage of vocabulary, some tasting sweet, others sour or bitter, leaving the tongue in a constant state of anticipation. Unfortunately, no matter how much dancing, jumping and tickling her poems perform on the taste buds, once they are swallowed they leave their consumer feeling disappointedly empty.

"Isolato," a winner of an annual national competition awarded by the University of Iowa Press, is Szporluk's second full-length poetry collection, and is enticing but elusive. The voice in these poems is real and spits words at readers with an addictive intensity. The poems wander in and out of consciousness with a crippled but powerful rhythm. The author's manipulation of rhythm and tone make it difficult not to be ensnared with the passion of her words. However, as is common with passion, upon reflection one realizes the moment of intensity was lacking in substance.

Emotions run wild through the poems in "Isolato" and are frighteningly familiar. This disjointed chaos, while striking, leaves the ideas behind the emotion feeling underdeveloped. Themes of womanhood, abuse, alienation, God and writing must be dug up from underneath the mounds of words piled on top of them.

Although these words often dilute instead of define the poem, it cannot be denied that Szporluk possesses a genius for language. She presents intense imagery in the poems of "Isolato" with tantalizing detail that provides some insight into the labyrinth of her poetry. Her pictures are refreshing in their newness, as in "The Unforseen," when she claims that "blood is just water / turned red, red with desire." Despite the beautiful images, Szporluk provides no means of decoding the meaning. It is uncertain how one is supposed to get from the beginning of a poem such as "Mare Nubium" and the image "If the devil caused the flood, he's sure to sell the sun," to the ending image of "The engrossment of a stag / stepping out of what the illustration calls the forest."

One of the few clues Szporluk allows her audience to discover can be found in her careful control of form. She uses the form of her poems to guide her often limping readers through the experience of "Isolato." Allowing the line breaks, stanza breaks, italicies and punctuation to dictate movement is often quite helpful.

"Isolato" is a collection of poetry that possesses a passion not focused on self that is rare in contemporary writing. The poems are full of secrets, spirals and flights. This wild ride, however, turns out to be quite ineffectual. The secrets are never unfolded and the spirals are so intense that by the end of the flight, one is left completely befuddled. If you choose to read these poems, nibble on them, chew them thoroughly, enjoy the way they dance on your tongue. Just don't be surprised that when you swallow them, you find you still have room for dessert.