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Beasts and Violinsis a collection of American narrative poetry addressing themes of life and work in the western United States. The poems read like broken country songs sung from a paved farm: dead deer and train trips, a dog at the edge of the fire. Beasts and Violinsbegins with a dark birth and finishes at peace on the water, with the necessary stops in between.
Caleb Barber’s fortuitous debut onto the American poetry scene strikes me as every bit as consequential and clarifying as those of his recognizable mentors—Spicer, Hugo, Wright and Carver. Having absorbed them, he’s done what no one could have taught him: given honest and singular voice to the painful extremities of being both beast and violin, brutish and fragile, mired in the flesh, yet bent on not being entirely at its mercy.
Lorca wrote of the sphinx dropping “a stone roof on the lyrical butterflies.” Barber’s uncompromising dialogues with the animal side of being human, similarly crushes our illusions, our too pretty notions of ourselves.
In razor’s edge language, he breaks open the mad harmonica of our unreasonable hungers, our tender fumblings, and our unpredictable natures. What I greatly admire, however, is that he is writer enough to leave us with an uneasy feeling of having been demolished and perhaps not exactly rebuilt—or not anyhow in a lyrical, transformative way, but rather in the solid and fecund way of mushrooms gathered as bounty from sites of decay.
—Tess Gallagher
Caleb Barber currently works in an aerospace machine shop, where he often composes his poems on a clipboard while delivering machined parts. Some of than rugged heavyweight material can be found in the sounds and rhythms and intentions of his unusual poems. He also worked in Arizona, Alaska,lă!
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