I seem to be going on a bit of a poetry binge at the moment, but I suppose that’s what you get when you follow your reading whims! Last week, I shared my thoughts on a beautiful book from Renard by Andy & Vally Miller which mixed verse and paintings. Today, however, the poetry I want to explore is a little different… The work is in translation and it’s from the Romanian author Nora Iuga. Known as the ‘grand dame’ of Romanian Literature, Iuga is now in her nineties and still writing and publishing.

This book, however, entitled “Dangerous Caprices“, is a collection from 1998, and it’s translated by Adam J. Sorkin and Diana Manole. The book is brought to Anglophone readers by Naked Eye Press, and they’re an intriguing outfit. Describing themselves as an independent, not for profit micropress, their stated aim is to bring quality literature and poetry to English language readers, with a focus on authors not translated before. It’s an admirable goal, and so I was very happy to accept their offer of a review copy of one of their books, and Iuga sounded intriguing…

a salesman showed up last night
to ask
how much I’d pay for you
it was a difficult, dangerous question
when I wanted to answer him
I turned my head
and my mouth filled with blood

According to the back of the book, Iuga’s usual themes are sex, sensuality and human relationships, and those subjects are certainly on show here. She explores these with a frankness that’s engaging, in verse that’s short, sharp, often beautiful and very allusive. Refreshingly, she demonstrates that women well passed the age of child-bearing and into those years where we’re often dismissed as old bags and not really considered female any more, still have longings and physical needs; although her opinion is that it’s the actual desire which gives the most pleasure, and not the act of consummation.

I nibble on a banana
longing for a man
its taste awakens on my tongue
a sensual memory

So Iuga recollects the past, relates her longing for someone who isn’t there, and also explores the very act of writing itself. But built into her verse is another element, that of ageing and the inevitable. When she wrote these poems, Igua was 67; and it just goes to show that we may reckon on death visiting us eventually but we never really do know when, as she’s still outrunning him.

I’ve mentioned before how I like my poetry to be immediate, to be the kind that I respond to straight away, and Iuga’s writing certainly is that. Her writing is often surreal, with unexpected juxtapositions, and her imagery unusual and memorable. She’s not afraid to explore the darker sides of love, and her verse is funny and thought-provoking. Not unexpectedly, her writing was banned under the Communist regime, but luckily she lived through that and now her work is widely available, and we at last have a chance to read her in English.

So “Dangerous Caprices” turned out to be a marvellous collection and a wonderful introduction to Iuga’s work. As far as I know there is nothing else of hers available in English which is a great shame, and so I hope this book gets to a wide audience and creates enough interest in her to spark more translations. On the strength of “Dangerous Caprices”, they would definitely be worth reading!

(Review copy kindly provided by the publisher, for which many thanks!)