September 19, 2012
This review is from: Home (Paperback)This is the second work by Uvi Poznansky that this reader has had the pleasure to absorb. And as written before in a small introduction to her life, the following is repeated: `Uvi Poznansky wears a coat of many colors. Originally from Israel where she studied Architecture and Town Planning then moving to the US where she studied Computer Science and became an expert in Software Engineering, Poznansky managed to combine the design elements of two studies into unique formats. And she has accomplished the same with the other side of her brain - making visual her ideas (she is an accomplished painter, drawer, and sculptor who has enjoyed exhibitions both in Israel and in California, her present base) and making words in poetry and in short stories and children's books.' And while all that was written before remains true, she has added a new facet to her art. HOME is an homage to her father, Zeev Kachel, an impressive poet who lived in Israel and during the last twenty years of his life he privately, secretly wrote poetry that has never been placed before the public until now. When Zeev Kachel died, Uvi discovered the poems and has translated them from Hebrew, publishing them here in tandem with her own poetry and short stories and embellishing them with her mystical artwork.
The theme is the concept of `home' as perceived by both father and daughter but not limited to their relationship or center of home: Uvi has been living in the USA while her father remained in Israel so there is a special tension within the works that negates space and time and yet celebrates it at the same time.
HOME by Uvi Poznansky, 2012
Sucked in by a force, I'm flying through a tunnel
The tunnel of memory that leads me back home
The past blurs my present, so my vision is double
The walls and the ceiling curve into a dome
From here I can see my home, tilting
And falling from place, all the lamps are aflame
My father's empty chair is slowly ascending
Tipped by the light, outlining its frame
And in A SENTENCE, UNFINISHED, a brief story, she includes the following:
Here is the poet, a man notorious for his contradictions, a man of great passion and an equally great skill to capture it, to put it in beautiful, eloquent words in any one of ten languages. Here is the storyteller whose listeners have left him. Locked in a world of no sound, in a world of no expression, here he is: a cage within a cage. This is the place where even the wolf surrenders. The fight is over. No more howling. ........ Here, at last, is my father.
And when we turn to the translations of the poetry of Zeev Kachel, the following is a brief example:
I'M NOT SORRY
I'm not sorry for the hours that I wasted
Suspended in my dreams and idle thought
I'm not sorry for the days I ruined
The only thing I care about is the luster I did blot
I care that that's the way our lives are going
In power games, for which we'll pay the price,
I ache, because of our misunderstanding
Because that which is between us turned hard as ice
I care nothing for the roses that have withered
Over their fleeting fragrance I will shed no tears
What pains me now is the way I hurt you
And that if I ask forgiveness, no one hears
No way to settle this, to heal the cuts
In this world there's a price for everything
The echo of our steps is the witness left behind us
As the light that glowed upon us is already blackening.
This radiant book is an exploration of the bond between a daughter and father and the book overflows with some of the most eloquent poetic moments in print. HOME is an invitation, a very personal one, and should not be passed over. Grady Harp, September 12