Robin Rosen Chang’s The Curator’s Notes is vibrant with the energy of “things that curl,” and “pulse” and “intertwine.” The mother is “a river, torrid/and trying to flow uphill.” Overripe plums fall to the grass and are “carpeted by a platoon of ants.” Bees swarm, “sticky before pollinating/the many fruit trees.” An injured chickadee fledgling tries to fly and is “batted against asphalt.” Even dying is described as motion, with the mother, at the end of her life, spiraling “toward oblivion.” Yet, in the midst of all this activity, Chang also offers the calm of observation and reflection on the agency of women, what it means to love and lose a difficult parent, the dynamics of marriage, the times we hold back or our voice fails us, and what helps us keep going. It is a journey beautifully told. The Curator’s Notes can be purchased here.
Kathy Davis 