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I just finished reading Celia de Fréine’s amazing new book. I was delighted to read the Monsanto poems, of course, but what really dazzled me was "riddle me this". My pulse went wild when I started reading the two first lines: "have you heard before/of water that's lonely". The music and rhythm of the writing and the unexpected question caught me immediately. I could not stop reading. When I got to the first "riddle me this" on page 38, I already knew for sure the riddle was not to be riddled, and that was the beauty of it. Even before I ended up reading about the "real" lake in her acknowledgments, I knew that now this lake, however real, only exists in the magic of her words, and signifies life. By pretending to leave the mystery of life untouched, her poetry does actually speak the violence of a world that makes the sky weep. Such is the sublimity of our world today: a terrible beauty.
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