The Way A Line Hallucinates Its Own Linearity
Danielle Vogel’s newest collection creates a latticework forrepair—the repairing of past trauma, the calling-into-presence of adissociated self—but does so while keeping the material of this netof thinking in a fragmented, diaphanous state, glowing in the spacebetween the poem and essay. Across three sections of“displacements,” “miniatures,” and “volume,” Vogel initiatesreaders into the séance of the book; she asks the reader to holdvigil for the most crucial phase of its composition, which can onlyhappen when the reader and she meet at the site of the page, withina “new, interrupted unity.” In The Way a Line Hallucinates its OwnLinearity, accord—writing with, reading with—is always a verb,always kinetic, alchemical, and alive. “It only takes one letter onthe page,” Vogel writes, “and we are already inside one another’slungs.” To consent to walk through these spaces is to give up thatpart of you that wishes to remain anonymous and un-entrained. Youwill be grateful that you did.