That he was dealing with the dark spaces of illness and addiction was imperceptible in the words he had sent. His book New Depths of Deadpan had just come out and he was excited, eager to get on the road. Our email exchange from a few weeks prior didn’t jive with the reasons for his sudden disappearance. I was arranging for him to come to town to read, when news came that he had died. In the spring of 2010, I was to see him for the first time in a decade. It was like being in his private terza rima.
The handful of times I was in a room with him, he made repartee an extreme sport where few had the chops to keep up. From his work I learned how the sound of language had a logic of its own, how it could be the organizing principle of a poem. His brother, Peter, and his friends, Rosmarie and Keith Waldrop, all poetry teachers of mine at Brown, gave him reason to come to Providence frequently. I became acquainted with Michael and his poetry when I was twenty. It would be impossible for me to write impartially about Michael Gizzi’s newly published Collected Poems. This is a marvelous debut.Michael Gizzi (photo by John Sarsgard, 2010) Quietly funny and benignly obsessive, there are no bells and whistles here, but simply carefully chosen words that render a life in beautifully exact and breathless terms. " The Bruise manages to present all the loops and turns of a mind figuring out where it stands in relation to itself while staying playful and spare and crisp in all the right ways. But the book and writing are clever, one has to give Zurawski that.
To hold one's breath waiting for the plot would not be good for one's health. Is this a female David Foster Wallace-men are allowed to do this lettered wallowing, or is it wandering? This reviewer is not sure the journey is worth the wait. The question is whether the reader cares enough to get that far. One realizes that the narrator's narcissism and intention for everyone in her life to notice her, to see her in her wounded state, is a metaphor for the narcissism and pathetic boredom of American culture in the 21st century. And here is where Zurawski gets to the reader. The other story: the young woman is visited by an angel, who bruises her. The outside story: young woman goes to college life is boring she eats ham for dinner she has a female lover they have sex, which is boring she goes to writing workshops, writes a story.
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