The Polymers

I'm unsure about my final reaction to this collection. On one hand, it's doing everything I hate in contemporary poetry: obscurantism for the sake of obscurantism, refusal to address anything in the open or conversational, obliqueness and insistence upon being intellectual for its own sake. On the other hand, Dickinson clearly knows what he's doing; the showing of vocabulary, form, and thematics tying the whole book together is masterful, and I've always had a soft spot for literary experiments between content and presentation.In the end, I think I'm happiest landing somewhere in the middle. If every book of poetry I read was like this, I'd give up poetry for good. That said, I think it's important to acknowledge an instance of mastercraft when it emerges, and perhaps it's only permissible because Dickinson is so good at it. The way he's clearly considered every little facet of this project, layering it with cute touches of unification and playfulness, made it a treat to read, even if I felt some of it was challenging with no purpose other than to be challenging. Sort of along the lines of Jake Kennedy, but more so.That said, the opening poems blew me away, and even tho I lost my fervor somewhere in the middle, Dickinson managed to pull me back in at the end. I'd heartily recommend this book as a landmark in contemporary poetry, Canadian or otherwise, tho I'd caution budding poets to think twice before trying to imitate what's between the pages.