




In fact, her simple response to this excerpt from “For Memory” from Adrienne Rich’s A Wild Patience has Taken Me This Far: Poems 1978-1981 says everything about Esther’s fervent humanism:
Freedom. It isn’t once, to walk out
Freedom. It isn’t once, to walk out
under the Milky Way, feeling
the rivers
of light, the fields of dark—
freedom is daily,
prose-bound, routine
remembering. Putting
together, inch by inch
the starry worlds.
To which, Esther says, “Ditto!”
Mentioning on her website (http://esthercohen.com/) how Book Doctor “took years to write”, Esther’s
dedication to the shaping of self-definition through self-expression (for her,
the mystery road of the writing process and who she meets along the way), rather
than through practical vocation, alone, finds sympathy in the character of Jack Bellicec,
a poet frustrated by the gimmicky expectations of the “Me” Generation, played
by Jeff Goldblum in Philip Kaufman’s claustrophobic Invasion of the Body Snatchers (United
Artists, 1978):
In inventive opposition to the small-town intimacy of Donald Siegel’s 1956 original film (click here for more about the germinal Jack Finney novel), the setting is now switched to frenetic, jumbled San Francisco, where the price of taking for granted the seemingly autonomic urban conveniences and services provided through the work of semi-ignored cabbies, garbage collectors, telephone linemen and other stewards of the cityscape who seem to have stepped right out of Unseenamerica, is an inhuman automatonicism threatening to engulf all our lives.


You can contact Esther Cohen at bookdoctor@rcn.com.
In inventive opposition to the small-town intimacy of Donald Siegel’s 1956 original film (click here for more about the germinal Jack Finney novel), the setting is now switched to frenetic, jumbled San Francisco, where the price of taking for granted the seemingly autonomic urban conveniences and services provided through the work of semi-ignored cabbies, garbage collectors, telephone linemen and other stewards of the cityscape who seem to have stepped right out of Unseenamerica, is an inhuman automatonicism threatening to engulf all our lives.


You can contact Esther Cohen at bookdoctor@rcn.com.
No comments:
Post a Comment