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	Comments on: Mouth Quill	</title>
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		<title>
		By: Ralph Merzbach		</title>
		<link>https://thepoetrybox.com/bookstore/mouth-quill#comment-25543</link>

		<dc:creator><![CDATA[Ralph Merzbach]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Mon, 05 Jul 2021 17:53:06 +0000</pubDate>
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					<description><![CDATA[Mouth Quill is an outpouring of loss and recovery in the diasporic aftermath of a small nation’s tragedy and in the parallel tragedies of the author’s personal life.  In powerful language redolent of the earthy dampness of coastal Estonia, Kaja Weeks brings forth memories that are at once broadly communal and intimately personal.  Weeks’s corporeal and spiritual landscapes are numinous with the murmurings of the lost culture for which she has become a vessel.  Her fusion of her family’s ancient, native tongue with the language of their adopted country underscores the liminal space in which their lives became suspended, and where they struggled, never quite successfully, to escape the wrenching brutality of Europe’s wars.  Working in the borderlands of collective and private memory, Weeks displays her special gift for rendering the obscure landscapes of the heart in the narratives of a history that is similarly obscure to most outside of the Baltic community. Written lovingly with talent and soul, this little book that deserves to be read again and again.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Mouth Quill is an outpouring of loss and recovery in the diasporic aftermath of a small nation’s tragedy and in the parallel tragedies of the author’s personal life.  In powerful language redolent of the earthy dampness of coastal Estonia, Kaja Weeks brings forth memories that are at once broadly communal and intimately personal.  Weeks’s corporeal and spiritual landscapes are numinous with the murmurings of the lost culture for which she has become a vessel.  Her fusion of her family’s ancient, native tongue with the language of their adopted country underscores the liminal space in which their lives became suspended, and where they struggled, never quite successfully, to escape the wrenching brutality of Europe’s wars.  Working in the borderlands of collective and private memory, Weeks displays her special gift for rendering the obscure landscapes of the heart in the narratives of a history that is similarly obscure to most outside of the Baltic community. Written lovingly with talent and soul, this little book that deserves to be read again and again.</p>
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