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Thomas Lowe Taylor:

PO Box 8766
Portland OR, 97207


A meditation on memory and sense of self, and on the relationship of language to consciousness of same; a kind of act-of-writing on the idea of the author's autobiography and what it might mean to write one. The text consists of a few long sparsely punctuated prose passages: "...And heavier hours claim your time as passage and remote, another nice day spent in front of what was once behind or maybe just left out to air and into the recollection of names, a day and its blue messages, marking yellow and orange as afterthoughts and as association where they are, and there is where they were, that's simple enough to be less than speech in the silence of the afternoon..." This writing has the quality of a chanted sutra, in which the narrative content of the words is only as important as their symbolic representation of a desired state of mind. The text is preceded and followed by highly perceptive essays by Susan Smith Nash, which form both a personal and intellectual frame for Taylor's work.--John M. Bennett

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This review originally appeared in TapRoot Reviews #4,
Copyright Burning Press 1994, 1995.

Contact the editor, luigi-bob drake, at Burning Press