by Larissa Andrusyshyn
(DC Books, 2010)
Larissa Andrusyshyn’s anthology of poems, Mammoth, is not only a powerful and
moving tribute to her deceased father, but also a means of probing and
analyzing the meaning of life and death itself.
Relying on repeated themes of family, the
Ukrainian immigrant experience and personal loss, Andrusyshyn weaves her
recollections together by connecting the seemingly fragmented images together
through the unlikely use of scientific metaphors – life being examined through
a microscope, extinct life forms revived in a petri dish.
This is especially evident in her poems
describing her father’s illness and death.
It is almost as though by examining this heart-wrenching experience
through a paleontologist’s technique of dissecting and reconstructing relics
from the past, she can accept the inevitable and come to terms with it. She loses him to death, but revives his
memory through her recollections and her poems.
Mammoth
is not only a personal exploration of complex human
emotions but also an examination of the significance of life itself. It raises more questions than it answers as
evident in this excerpt:
“What
would you want known about you?
That you invented? Or were kind?
Or made at times
a hell of your own planet? (from the poem Voyageur)
Commentary provided by Irene Hordienko,
Toronto ON
No comments:
Post a Comment