دروازه قرمز: داستان پری‌گونه تاریک در اشعار

The story starts at a Jewish funeral. fist after fist fills with cool damp earth It travels to Israel: at ben-gurion airporthere she comes hauling her baggagerendered clumsy by her burdenbeneath that smooth brown skinthat halo of thick coarse hairthe plantation and the shtetllive in blood and memory her passport names hertirzah persephone horowitzafter an aunt on her dad's sidewho died so young in the campsand her mother's favorite greek mythbut to call her tirzah is too muchlike uncovering her nakednesslike speaking aloud the holy name and the holy city of Tzfat... i am a city of songplucked strings of a lyreloud brassy klezmerthrobbing techno beatsshoes clop-clopping on cobblestonetires screeching on the asphalt riverwinding round my peak It features monsters... terry loves monstersloved them since her first pimples and pubessneaking dracula under the coverswondering what it would be liketo feel a vampire's fangs on her neckto taste human blood in her mouthto transform into wolf or bat or mistbut dracula always diesstaked and beheaded by good christian menbecause magic and mystery must not survive And it ends... No. That would be telling. "there is inside each of us a red door, leading to secret places, within, beyond, come and see come and see" In this poetry collection that fuses Jewish mysticism and halakha with Gothic tales and queer eroticism, Shawn C. Harris dares us to walk through that red door and lose ourselves on a journey of death, grief, rebellion, escapism, nihilism, passion. This journey--half nightmare, half revelry--ultimately leads to a reappreciation of life and light. Each poem is a world to itself; grouped together, they become what might be best described as a (fictitious) memoir in lyrical form, a vision in a pomegranate orchard, an apparition in a cemetery. Harris' work is unusual, highly original; densely structured, full of whispers and echoes, surprising, haunting. Shawn C. Harris (she/they) is an author, playwright, educator, and gigantic nerd who appreciates art and media that revel in the chthonic side of imagination. The Red Door is her debut poetry collection and was a semi-finalist for the Cave Canem Poetry Prize. Her nonfiction has been featured in Tablet and TribeHerald. She currently lives among her extended family in Virginia, where she was born and raised. The Red Door is a finely observed, uniquely voiced collection that maps the dangerous terrain between brokenness and rebirth, which is dripping with blood, lit by prayer, and redolent with mystery. Gwydion Suilebhan, author of Cracked and Abstract Nude The Red Door, like its poet author Shawn C. Harris, transcends genres and identities. It is an exploration in crossing worlds. It brings together poetry and story telling, imagery and life events, spirit and body, the real and the fantastic, Jewish past and Jewish present, to spin one tale. Einat Wilf, author of My Israel, Our Generation and Telling Our Story The Red Door is the slit of light between two darknesses, not merely sampling Biblical verses and liturgical choruses (though it does that, too: we are but dust and ashes vimru amen) but adding new installments to the stories of antiquity. A sinister narrative is posed behind a lush canopy of poems, meshing the Jerusalem of Temple times with the Jerusalem of today with the uncertain prophecies that bounce around the backs of our heads as each of us wonders, am I the only one who hears this? No, Harriss poems whisper back. No, you are not. Matthue Roth, author of Never Mind the Goldbergs and My First Kafka "The story of Tirzah Persephone Horowitz's, the brown-skinned, Jewish descendant of "the plantation and the shtetl," as she travels to Israel's holy city of Tzfat and discovers monsters"-- Provided by publisher