Magenta Soul Whip by Lisa Robertson; collected by Elisa Sampedrin

Coach House Books, 2009.

Song-Reviewed by Daniela Gesundheit.

My first read of Lisa Robertson's Magenta Soul Whip transpired simultaneously to my joining the local YMCA. I would read her momentous poems while slaving on the elliptical machine. Now, if this sounds like any manner of disrespect or carelessness, allow me to explain the uncanny synergy that "Magenta Soul Whip" and "Morning Workout" found in me. I would discover lines like "Sometimes we make things that seem/ To have will - yet the beautiful life of/ The house is each day more fragile . . ." and "Then everything begins to dilate/The ingenious sea invents/ All my incertitude . . ." while in the throes of an increasing heart rate, sweat, difficulty, endorphin, and that Sufi feeling that can arise with certain forms of exercise -- that dizzying dervish disintegration feeling. During these sessions, I acquired the ability to read the poems in a corporeal way, which seems entirely appropriate to Robertson's work. Each of her poems examines the surroundings or interiors via the body, asking "What does mortal flexure want?" Under Robertson's counsel, I am overwhelmed with analgesic, unhinging thoughts, and made to agree with her assertion: "Utopia is so emotional."