To go down and then up is the trajectory of Fiona Sampson's new poetry collection, Come Down (2020). Four years later The Catch (2016), Sampson discloses to the reader a path of verses that flows turning, going up and down, with marsh to go through, making who is reading confused, even lost, going back on their selves, and eventually suggests to abandon the idea of a destination, so that the feeling of being lost becomes a seesawing lullaby. Thirty poems like clues on pieces of paper for a treasure hunt, spotlight what is said, pushing back to the darkness all the rest. Verse by verse, words, as if they were a wharf (which is the title of a poem in the collection, indeed), cover the distance between belonging and not belonging, the birth family and the adoptive one, where the former stands for an unsolved origin, and the latter represents all is known, the current status, yet partial. Starting from the opening dedication, "[f]or my families", the horizon we move on is that of plurality and not linearity, which makes humans closer to the surrounding natural elements.
Scendere per poi risalire, è questa la traiettoria che segue l’ultima raccolta poetica di Fiona Sampson, Come Down (2020). A quattro anni dalla precedente The Catch (2016), Sampson apre al lettore un sentiero di versi fatto di svolte, dislivelli, paludi da attraversare, lasciando confondere chi lo percorre, perdersi addirittura, ritornare sui propri passi e infine proporre semplicemente di lasciare andare l’idea di meta, così che il disorientamento possa diventare dondolio cullante. Le trenta poesie che si susseguono come indizi di una caccia al tesoro, illuminano quel che è detto ricacciando nel buio dell’incertezza tutto il resto. Verso dopo verso, le parole della poetessa britannica, proprio come un pontile (titolo di una delle poesie, Wharf), attraversano la distanza tra l’appartenenza e la non appartenenza, tra famiglia naturale, sentita come origine irrisolta, e famiglia adottiva, conosciuta e presente, eppure parziale. Fin dalla dedica che apre la raccolta, “[f]or my families”, il territorio in cui ci si muove è quello della pluralità e della non linearità che avvicinano immediatamente l’umano agli elementi naturali circostanti.
Francesca Nardi (2021). Poesia tra immersione e riemersione: i versi acquatici di Fiona Sampson sondano l’abisso in cui scivolano personale e universale. TELLUS, 2, 93-103.
Poesia tra immersione e riemersione: i versi acquatici di Fiona Sampson sondano l’abisso in cui scivolano personale e universale
Francesca Nardi
2021
Abstract
To go down and then up is the trajectory of Fiona Sampson's new poetry collection, Come Down (2020). Four years later The Catch (2016), Sampson discloses to the reader a path of verses that flows turning, going up and down, with marsh to go through, making who is reading confused, even lost, going back on their selves, and eventually suggests to abandon the idea of a destination, so that the feeling of being lost becomes a seesawing lullaby. Thirty poems like clues on pieces of paper for a treasure hunt, spotlight what is said, pushing back to the darkness all the rest. Verse by verse, words, as if they were a wharf (which is the title of a poem in the collection, indeed), cover the distance between belonging and not belonging, the birth family and the adoptive one, where the former stands for an unsolved origin, and the latter represents all is known, the current status, yet partial. Starting from the opening dedication, "[f]or my families", the horizon we move on is that of plurality and not linearity, which makes humans closer to the surrounding natural elements.File | Dimensione | Formato | |
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Tellus - Recensione Come Down - F. Sampson.pdf
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