"The great examples of the investigation, shaping, and liberation of affect, not least militancy, continue to lie elsewhere, in Rimbaud, Vallejo, Césaire, and more recently Raúl Zurita, among numerous others."
- Cal Bedient
"This is a song of the massacred, the destroyed and disappeared during Chilean President Pinochet’s era of tyranny – how can this be if the dismembered, burned and slashed cannot speak? Zurita pulls it out of his body, his day by day, his furnace by furnace mouth, his barracks by barracks and bombs by bombs rebel notary ledger. It is a collection of planks, that is, jagged samples of bone shards, splinters of barrack and tangles of wire, low tremolos of shrieks lingering, blood streams, body-sticks, warehouse and camp whispered love journals before the crematorium and time-space shafts intersecting the death ship Chile-Nagasaki-Auschwitz still in the liminoid edge of our present storms. With the eye and timbre of Rodnoti, Neruda, Bombal and Wiesel, Zurita, through Borzutzky’s masterful translation, hurls himself at our comfort culture barricades. He wants “awakening” –– in spite of the multiple chambers of horrors suffered by innocent peoples, mountains and seas – “There were millions of planets being born there.” And Zurita is one – and this book is thousands. Plank by plank, line by line, this is an inspiring, major work in translation in our post 9-11 era of always-war and terror. Heal with it."
- Juan Felipe Herrera, Poet Laureate of California
"Raúl Zurita is like Jeremiah, a weeping biblical prophet reminding his people of the sins of omission and the embarrassments of complacency. Chile is a minuscule country at the end of the world with more poets per capita than anywhere else. Zurita is a giant among them, like Mistral, Neruda, and Parra. His voice maps the agony lived under tyranny and its aftermath and Daniel Borzutzky’s translations capture it with admirable precision."
- Ilan Stavans, editor of The FSG Book of Twentieth-Century Latin American Poetry
"¡Vigilant rationalists! ¡Atención! You are being monitored by death. Despite all your enlightening efforts, she keeps on coming like a mother. Her fertilizer? Your blindness. Your poetry? Her extraterrestrial bed where the worms don’t stop fucking. Translation: if the distinction between the visible and the invisible is one few critics would dare make in the long empirical night of the 21st century, María Negroni’s update of the Gothic is bold because of its perverse retrofuturism. From the neon oceans of Jules Verne to the intergalactic femininity of Aliens, this is the exhibit one step ahead of our end times—the essay as “hallucinatory knowledge” beyond the optics of power, a voluptuous and bottomless lyrical trance."
- Lucas De Lima
"Informed by a brilliant ferality and tour-de-force grotesqueries, Wild Grass on the Riverbank plays upon elements of traditional Japanese sekkyō-bushi to explore the weird defamiliarizations and surreal transplantations of postmodern diaspora. Diaspora is infused with the organic horrors of sexual vines and seedpods, invasive spores, reanimated decomp, and naturalization means to be eaten alive by bugs and wild grasses. A challenging linguistic undertaking deftly translated by Jeffrey Angles, this is a stunningly brutal and relentlessly innovative book by Japan’s ‘shamaness of poetry.’"
- Lee Ann Roripaugh, author of Dandarians