The American Poetry Review

THE ARCHI-TEXTURE OF THE CITY AS A NETWORK OF TRANSLATION

APZ Books

Street Gloss by Brent Armendinger Brooklyn, NY: The Operating System, 2019 Paperback, 126 pages

Translation is a practice fraught with unequal power relations, a site where belonging and exclusion are negotiated and legitimized, and one in which existing ideologies are often reproduced. Yet it also can serve as a mode of access and collective experience, an aesthetic and ethical strategy that can challenge hierarchical structures and create alternative versions—not just of the text but of the economy of literature and language to which it belongs. Brent Armendinger’s makes this collaborative act explicit, while opening up its strictures to the archi-texture of the city. Accomplishing this requires letting go of one’s authority-as-interpreter but, moreover, it demands taking in the vocabulary of the streets, which is where Armendinger relocates himself in order to comb the whereabouts of certain words, “problems” of translation that become reconfigured as possibilities. That there are gaps in transmission is beside the point; the point is, in fact, that translation necessitates a poetics of contiguity, a being around a person or place or thing—a being around the text—which moves us closer to a heightened awareness or certain uncertainty, an intimacy with the person and words we gyrate with, gathering tone, feel, mood—a valency we couldn’t otherwise receive, if, say, we were too close. Intimacy requires this distance, but also the missteps in the continuous play of approximate unveiling, slippages and the stripping of words, to get inside

You’re reading a preview, subscribe to read more.

More from The American Poetry Review

The American Poetry Review1 min read
Blood Moon, Eclipse
There is a mark on the retinaI’m told I must watch, twice the optic nerve. I blink& see the dark side of a moon dissolving into the worldits shadow obscures, a dead star. If I close the lid the moon burnsbrighter, flipped now, as if lit from beyond,
The American Poetry Review2 min read
Two Poems
Easy has felt easier. As I runpast this relic railroad terminal,my heart chugga-chuggas,months after a mystery infectionlanded me in Lancaster General,where I learned the meaningof “pulmonary and pericardialeffusions.” These are ruinsof the heart tha
The American Poetry Review1 min read
The Physical Impossibility Of Death In The Mind Of Someone Living
—Damien Hirst; Tiger shark, glass, steel, 5% formaldehyde solution; 1991 What we did not expect to find were my father’ssecret poems, saved deep in his computer’s memory.Writing, he wrote, is like painting a picturein someone else’s mind. He develope

Related