j/j hastain, in xir work, insists on everything, all at once. It is a literature that imagines a trans-identification not just beyond genders but also beyond cultures and stories and literary traditions. What comes out of this is ornate, mythic, full of vivid color, and transcendent. Juliana Spahr
This hybrid is truly experimental and would please Harraway in its wit, inventiveness, political astuteness. Its Non-Novel novelty seems natural. It is reoccurringly brilliant. Lori Anderson Moseman
j/j’s queer poetics are radical and generative—this language doesn’t just obliterate this situation we call reality—it creates it anew, transforming cosmology, consciousness, bodies, physical space: “a new way to merge”… yum! Tim Jones-Yelvington
In hastain’s poetry, city is body is space is text that begins to resemble the ruins or makings of the city, ancient and utopian at the same time. Manifesting just how imaginary & subject to reinvention our realities are, hastain hastens to dissect what we take for habitat, existence, eros and love, that “joy dependent on /dyad,” into atomic elements. These then serve as organic blocks to reassemble the world to the artist’s own blueprint via a series of fragmentary odes as gallant as they are experimental. Such rebirth and recycling, brutal and beautiful, resist: “don’t let/ them make a museum out of us.” This is bloody, nourishing work. Amy King
Female He and Correlational Femme Subsumed but not Stifled in an Unnamable City is a trans-book, an interstice book, a book of motion-pains and paying attention and the sacred bedevilment of material-historical being. The form of the book, like the form of the lover-beloved, (the s’object/the text-reader/the I-Thou), moves between lyric and epic; also between essay and verse. If the ghosts of Barthes, Kierkegaard, Buber, and Acker all kissed each other at once, their perplexed animate spit would be hastain, and it would write of the self made other so it could be loved too.
Anna Joy Springer
Between gender and desire, between seeing and saying, between the body and language, there opens a space of reimagination. j/j hastain’s Female He remakes a reader by and through a corporeal act; to read is to be becoming, a radical and revolutionary sentiment. Lidia Yuknavitch
j/j hastain feels toward ways to remember the desired past as it proliferates into the present desire, trailing violence and healing; to make a retroactive, “post-binary womb” to shelter the growing and future selves; to make a story out of flesh. Declaration, prophecy and self-generating, self-mutating myth, this “non-novel” is an oubliette so filled with shards, greenery, partial figures, secretions and cravings that it overflows forgetting and bursts into the above ground world to “[continue] the contrary body and all of its buoyant desires.” Kate Shapira
Of hominids gaining speech, ferocious forevermore, able to forestall relentless collapse of body inwards by spooling of waking dreamworld outward bound, but as with all tool makings’ effects, the artifacts threatening to become self-referential, unitary definitional. And if soon speech happens not of its own making—as in life-brinking hominids brinking self as meal for other—the poetic drama of it—what do we call it? j/j hastain of hominid, j/j hastain post-hominem, j/j hastain excrudes carnem vociferor adds sizzling pages to the epic, a centuries long overcoming of subjugation under the brute ignorant law of oneness. Rodrigo Toscano
Make no mistake: we force-effect the oubliette is an odd child, conceived in theory, borne from myth and poetry, raised by politics. Multilayered, complex, and highly stylized, it is a work of great fluidity, and hastain’s particular talent is allowing image and narrative to combine so that what could be confession, “this is the closest to stories that I have ever come,” emerges from childhood memories like “moths that flew around the bathroom,” only to merge with lines like “drinking from goblets full of rain,” so that such utterances as “I am in need of being held” and “do not make me suck that again” become brief, bright offerings of the soul, bared, like skin, like teeth. Molly Gaudry
“What is your most cellularly accurate tribe?” Get ready to be disconcerted then soothed. “Oh how demanding it is to try to remember. To forge these replacements to forgetting while in a forgetting room. I am exhausted, I thought. But if I could devise a way to court a mosaicked bird through these relentless chiming territories, I might somehow be able to get my own heavy, stained glass wings to fly.” With these words, j/j hastain submerges the reader in a space where to be human is to be vegetable and cyborg, where The Virgin de Guadelupe reigns, where femmes can “pierce cocks,” where a father bends and bevels glass, where “he is a monosyllabic jolt within the pronoun she”, where “trees are carnivorous,” “where caves weep and blood has no pronoun.” Get your dictionary out.. There are sixty-four words here I’ve never even heard of. Get rid of your pre-conceptions on what it is to be in human form. Toss out your notions of sentence structure and word usage. These pages bleed. Annie Lanzillotto
j/j seeks. Slips. Moves through becoming in ways that are fraught with uncertainties while filled with desire and longing. “In a city without seasons, in a city of seams,” pronouns sink, fade, disappear, only to be found in spaces where they still wait to be found. But even if pronouns are found they cannot be named. Each pronoun can only be provisional. Even the “we” of the “I” is a provisional naming of desire. doug rice
j/j hastain writes with an “anarchic acoustic reserve:” baroque ideas conveyed in spare, tight language whose reach is extended and deepened by joyous wordplay. In Steaming Cleave we are taken to an intimate place, at once subaquatic and intergalactic, where two “beloved lovers” share each other–and ultimately, the revelation that they are living beyond the usual end of life. Through the alchemy of language, the poet takes us into the lovers’ realm, where we too are changed. Self, body, sexuality and gender are mutable and permeable in the fluid environment of the lovers’ text/space. “We had to become the book in order to share the space of the book.” We become the lovers, and the book becomes our universe. “We are an extravagant strangeness, acquiring by way of making particles bow to their own potential futures.” Jay Besemer
j/j hastain’s work, Systems of Steaming Cleave, re-conceives the body, intimacy, death, and the sublime. If we follow hastain’s dead lovers as they swim and fly in some “autonomous portion of the sea,” what we find is a dissolution of binaries, an almost maniacal drive toward one another, an utter demolition of separateness itself. “A neoteric conversion. A new way to merge.” There is something terrifying about all of that melding. I feel as though I’m drowning in mangroves. It is a synesthete’s playground. The text as body. The body as music. “Trying to make even the contiguous foliage audible.” Impossibly beautiful and, as V.S.Ramachandran says about the synesthetic gene, “an evolutionary tactic with an agenda.” hastain’s lovers are “making the centers countless.” “Because eventually I would be a we, and we would be sewn more and more tightly together as we made new decencies.” It is both Rumi and C.D. Wright. Luminous, elliptical, and politically destabilizing. The bodies here are trans bodies though this may have nothing at all to do with historicized gender, “our genders are our subjectivities,” but rather that the trans body is one of forever moving across, forever moving through. This is exactly the kind of thinking, writing I love. The kind of vision I need. tc tolbert
A rogue philosophical deconstructing of ultimate consummation. Abstracted language details fascination in this meditation on sensuality where self destabilizes to deify the beloved “as an indelible site of union.” In these pages j/j hastain has constructed a vivid, Sapphic exploration of the self.
In Steaming Cleave j/j hastain reminds us that “starlight is not a line but a blended length.” The world the poet here creates is likewise what is shared between bodies, between bodies and the full liquid world around them, and what death shares with us. You will find herein a sensation akin to H.D.’s oceanic womb-mind, where every part of living and dying pulses toward enlightenment.
A profoundly generative body of work, this collection of interspersed poems and collages make lush and mysterious visual/verbal gems that reveal the presence of a vital imagination at play. This is truly an inter-species book, part image, part story, part human and part wilderness.
Featuring cover images by MOO | Monika Mori and Michael Kalish, pleth is a literary call-and-response. It begins with j/j hastain’s “poem-cells,” full-color visual collages of images and words that act as short poems. To each of j/j’s cells, Marthe Reed wrote a textual response, creating a dialogue of alternative gender and sexuality between two literary masters
What people are saying about pleth:
“There are complex nuances in both hastain’s and Reed’s work, fragmented glimpses of post-apocalyptic wounds, of a desperate last grasp at the tattered shreds of a brave new world’s disavowed humanity, but both hastain and Reed offer, above all else, a sense of beauty.”
—Deb Hoag, editor of Women Writing the Weird
“pleth is both dream field and rock field. But it’s also a reaching for some elusive essense. Indeed, ‘we are the different guests / tossed’ and rightfully so. In this book, the reader is ‘tossed’ into a pit of language and longing, and that makes the search for our humanness all the more humane. And all the more mysterious.”
—Lawrence Welsh, author of Begging for Vultures, New and Selected Poems 1994-2009
“How might a pastoral eclogue performmed upon cyborg swains, each in a ‘flesh-suit / -self rousing’ go down? Just like pleth—swain song-cum-interface-cum-“poemic” of j/j hastain’s poem-cell collages and Marthe Reed’s ekphrastic responses. And what should rollick and keen inside pleth‘s locus amoenus? Elastic, outraged and rueful, the poetry ofpleth dements, brilliantly, lyric convention.”
—Carolyn Hembree, author of Skinny
j/j and Marthe performing pleth at Innisfree
j/j performing pleth at The Mercury Cafe
“What j/j and tt (who have come together to haunt each other’s pages into expansion) became now reads as a meditation upon knowing that there are not currently enough models for engagement of the ravenous it. Ravenous because it is set to consume caverns of the overlap of psyche and the physical, to have focus be on the minute aspects of the whole, to gauge instant by instant the flickering particles that push toward gesture; gesture is itself push re society/ socialization or solitude.”
Won Second Place in the MHP chap competition!
A blurb for Dear secondary umbilical,:
“There is no doubt that j/j hastain is making our new poetry of oracle. Poetry I want, poetry you want, poetry very much wanted. I’ts not poetry about everything being all right. It’s better for you than any liar’s subterfuge. How else will we get the love? I’ts beautiful in here. This is a book I will give to the ones I share the best parts of this world with.”
-C.A. Conrad judge of the 2012 MadHat Press Wild and Wyrd Poetry Chapbook Prize
From Intro to her:
I wrote ‘her’ to honor her (the pronoun, the ‘used to’ parts in me), to try and de-toggle something in me, to uphold a previous (yet very necessary) identity while making space in me for new pronouns, new identities. The future tense of the present houses the past in a sweet casing. I want to honor the her in me: the her in her stilettos and pencil skirts, the her who begins to become the land of the Australian outback (with dreadlocks and bare feet), the her that is less her and more something else with that shaved head and those boxers, pants sagging into a plethora of pronouns. All of these deserve honor because all of them are true: all of these are me.
Some Blurbs about her:
j/j hastain transcends experimental poetry, transcends experimental words and concepts, and transcends beyond sexual identity into transference into something more. j/j writes for the voiceless, giving them a voice, finding “the courage to enter/ the next body”. There are many posers out there pretending to be outrageous; j/j is the real deal. j/j explores identity and wow, does it matter! It matters when identity gets blurred in the world, where so many do not know who they are, and sex and gender are easy to unintentionally slip out of, like undressing skin. As j/j says, “what imprisons is the idea/ of space” and j/j is a poet obsessed with space and line breaks. For what breaks us more than the negative space around us; or, the space of silence?
—Martin Willitts Jr
One of poetry’s most bedeviling challenges is to render the ineffable into language. The bolder poets face the difficulty of not only writing about complex subjects but of writing about those liminal spaces in topics where language does not yet exist. j/j hastain has succeeded here as few yet have in being able to give voice to the unfolding/enfolding complexities of gender and identity. The poems in her stretch from a purely lyrical explication of a personal situation to the breathless urgency of an unfolding manifesto. I am reminded in this work of the powerful and shocking music of Monique Wittig’s Les Guerilleres. Although hastain’s aims are large, they do not go unfulfilled. This is a book that should serve as a baseline for poetry that attempts to bridge identity’s great divides.
—Eloise Klein Healy
Furniture Press Books, 2013
At once reckless, eccentric and graceful, j/j hastain’s newest collection creates a poetics of overflow that interrogates the very nature of form, “filling the filigree/with embodied/flicker/all of the parts of our flesh-compass.” In myrhh to re all myth, the poet innovates a fluidity that nurtures form “as gap to invert/while we so ravenously/invent.” Rather than the brittle stasis of conventional poetry, this supple work rises to the level of jubilant defiance. Attending to our “human askew” in a manner that is both empathic and challenging, hastain enacts dynamic swerves: this book generates an eros and intimacy that have social, spiritual and “a truly galactic activism.”
“This is a romance of fractals,” an invigorating linguistic panoply which refuses to be any one thing. myrhh to re all myth gives us a vivid transdifferentiated poethic state–a sonic inquiry–thus feral post-gendered embodiment of “the infinitely ferric dress.” Multiple, layered, disarming and hauntingly worthwhile. hastain spins a fine vocalic lyric gossamer about us, a future ethos and new grammatical treatise of fracture, rediscovery, and retelling, a myrhh re(garding) all myth.
Here, in an unbroken series of “amorous epistles,” is writing reaching beyond the envelope of familiar language transfer to touch and explore its beloved–not a single one, but perhaps a single one who is all in one–the one reaching, the one reached for, that which is touched– an “effort to understand oneself through the world’s understanding/or repudiation of a world’s/functionality of the shroud.”
Moving in and out from a horizon of empathy and desire, encompassing larger and smaller sweeps of love, these thrusts leave a space alive with their own contrails.
If myth is the collectivity of human story, then j/j hastain has rewritten it. This is a beautiful, radical opus wherein the construction of everything, of anything, particularly that amorphous thing called identity and the identities we embody despite and because of it, is akin to being “husked beans laid out in piles across miles of farm fields,” a virginal state that is, like hastain’s sustained lyric, as terrifying as it is powerfully generative. hastain is aware of the potency of prefix—that how we “re” is also how we “de,” putting re/deconstruction into the real/artificial centrifuge, which, in hastain’s verbal laboratory, spins with dizzingly infinite possibility. Here are “meaningful dishevelments,” hybrid entities “refusing frame” as they “kill and eat phonates” while “emulsifying expressiveness.” Here are cyborgs and “plump doves,” all defying categorization as they affirm the ever-human desire for individuation. I adore this book–for its frightening precision in the face of ambiguity, for its ambition and bravery. This is a kick in many anatomical places, and those anatomical places, in hastain’s world, are always subject to the morph and switch. This is evolutionary brilliance. This is authenticity that’s been busted out of its myth.
myrrh to re all myth is a vast consortium of direct transmissions from the brain stem, the limbic system, the neocortex and the ecosystem—these transmissions are then transduced by intensive language decoding the flows. hastain presents a sensual wardrobe of aternal, untimely and actual meanings that give a perlocutionary effect of incredible wonder. I’m entranced by this book.
“Overall the book displays a calculated musical undertone, creating a sweeping symphonic vision of words to match the cosmic experience of identity encountered in the content. The experience was that of waves, mid-ocean with a reader in yogi tree pose on wooden planks. Watch out for this writer to make a mark on poetic history as the years pass by – there is a ‘Howl’ in emergence from this one.”- Arianna Conseur
Nightboat Books, 2013
cultivating cadences to invert the given creed
Spuyten Duyvil, 2012
Review by Danielle Vogel (Forthcoming)
At the beginning of cadences, j/j hastain announces that rather than the conventional model of opposing artifice to the body and the natural, artifice will very much interact with the body, the “pungent colony.” That is not to say that it’s a peaceful relation. In the very same first poem, hastain demands that the reader/lover burn their body when they die, except for the genitals and mouth, which are to be given to other lovers, like both works of art and art’s mediums.
Words that have never been next to each other are next to each other now, lines that gut, a swarm of pink moths on your eyeskin. When hastain writes “We must create different versions of us to sound out the wounds on,” you will do so willingly. Cadences is a dissection of love and space and sex that will teach you the new gender-language while pulling your chest open.
-Sarah Rose Etter
Body transitivity is an ever-shifting locus in this work of thrilling prosody.
In opening this vulnerable, human, desiring book of sacred song we are invited into a ritual archeology of the residue of bodies that question, want and need. Here, at cadences, is where future social-economic histories have room to imply themselves. Here is where the subaltern engagements of our species, multiple loves and entanglements, multiple ((de) gendered) forms moving across the furniture of the press, multiple and usually unacknowledged or oppressed ways of being in the world turn visible as having been performed.
j/j hastain’s cadences is a cosmogony beyond biologies and historicized inheritance. Xir attention to “speech-verge” whispers of hybrid contexts, communicating new cadences of tongue and “tone as a kind of kink.” In the “ulterior” cellular sound there is a push for a “new eden” that opens harmonies into harmonics. It is “matriarchal-kingly,” storied by “queer saints” and a “trans eucharist” (the becoming versions of body). There is “no eve and no adam,” only lovers in search of a consecrated crossing, committed to the somatic and the semantic.
Spuyten Duyvil, 2012
j/j and tt make a correspondence in Emerson’s sense—the original green building, if you will—when two have the inside with the outside. They begin with the commercial (the outside, publishing industry’s inside), and the correspondence grows organically from there to include exchanges on the nature of sexuality (both inside and manifest on the social outside) and the relevance of the mythological in our postmodern living (tracing myth back to origins, inside ancient humans, but in the context of literature, which is outside us and socializing). I come away from reading their high-energy 300-plus pages with my clearest sense to date—and I have been wrestling with psychomachiatic truths for several years now—of what amounts to a statement for our generation on the significance of Poetry.
—Rich Blevins, author of Medieval Ohio
Marsh Hawk Press, 2012
Speaking with Eileen Tabios: Bloodjet Writing Hour
Early Praise: Eileen Tabios
Review: S Schultz at Jacket 2
Review: The New Mystics
Review: Boston Area Small Press
Review: G Harp on Amazon
Review: The Tributary
Review: Galatea Resurrects
Eileen R. Tabios’s ORPHANED ALGEBRA performs numerations of loss, want, abandonment, the conditions of the invisible. Riffing on middle school math story problems, Tabios works a mathematics of disorder, the unordering of poverty, these “stories” a corrective to the “ascetic’s illusion of ecstasy, a measurement made possible by its condition precedent: a suffering so unmitigated it hollows the non-survivors from children to earthworms.” j/j hastain’s “visceral echoes” of Tabios, “gestures” both textual and visual, sound “an activism of hollowing out,” whose hollows form a new space of assiduity. In “stance”—instance—hastain “grapple[s] with ethics of place and space. Was a country the host body of a child found homeless in it?” Who and where are we, and what role has language in any of this? Against abuse, against hunger, against erasure, Tabios and hastain challenge silence’s dissonant ignorance. The poets sharpen language and intention, “Creating a permanent, rather than temporary implantable. An anti-obviate hutch or hearth.” A challenge, a new “home,” a pleasure, this collection puts us in the midst.
Categories are not abstractions, they are bodies. Family is one such embodied category, gender another. What happens to bodies when they don’t fit the categories assigned them, when they lack families, when they criss-cross gender or genre lines? How can one calculate such changes, compose equations to explain these trans-categorical shifts? Our very pronouns are at stake, as are nations, blood-ties, definitions to words like “dad” and “belonging.” As j/j hastain writes, “There is a new lineage that we are trying to make more apparent.” Eileen R. Tabios and hastain are trans-parents to a fresh embodiment of words and bodies, and to what they mean when they come together as books and persons. Their writing counts the change(s) in unexpected vocabularies.
—Susan M. Schultz
long past the presence of common
Out of Print
Say it with Stones, 2011
Review: JA Tyler at The Red Fez
Review: Jonathan Pleucker at Html Giant
Review: Jai Arun Ravine
Review: Rob Mclennan
Review: Andy Peterson at The Barnyard
“long past the presence of common is a revolutionary document — a collection of poetry, collage, and scripts that challenges a political stability premised on always already repressive and hypocritical social norms and practices. This work takes strategies of categorization, simplification, and reduction to task for their failure to acknowledge the fundamental instability and unpredictability of organic energy and, in the process, it unleashes a radical assault on psycho/sexual conservatism, cultural conventionality, and spiritual stasis. Like a hot wire, long past the presence of common hisses and snaps an electric pulse violent and mesmerizing; yet there’s something soft here — a skin-like porousness (subtle, erotic, and inviting) that saturates the energy, thus exposing the multidimensionality of the bodily experience: a constant inter-bodily contact and merger and mutual becoming always dynamic and fluid in its unending cosmological escalations. An urgent and necessary anarchism — at once dangerous and revitalizing — sings from these pages & the message is clear: there are ways to live, but the lives therein requires a radical re-imagining of what it means to be forever in relation to an emergent fusion. j/j hastain writes the future in its inexhaustible queerness, its variability, pulsation, and immaculate unraveling, and the vision pleth presents in this book is one of limitless luminescence and difference that cuts through established models — both micro and macro — of fixity and closure. long past the presence of common offers essential possibilities within an age of darkness.”
“Full saturation ‘inverse –embedded wishes’ surface and recede in long past the presence of common, a momentous document which activates a commons for future feeling. This book radicalizes conceptions of the body multiple. Erotic subjects in the form of psycho-somatic wishes surge, intensify, electrify, vacillate, flicker, morph, fume, commingle and melt. This is emancipatory writing. Note too the ecstasy of the viscous embryonic circuitry arc bubble collages which are interspersed throughout. I feel an incredible kinship with this book.”
“Our bodies render us travelers, or prisoners, and on this truth is born j/j hastain’s fascinating new book long past the presence of common. Naming and triangulating are important passions in this work, which often surprises with its multiple vocabularies, even as it refreshes age old debates about the systems of logic and gender that have made a nightmare of the political experience. If you are looking for a book of avant-garde poetry with a revolutionary dimension, you would do well to take this book toheart.”
verges and vivisections
Review: Jay Besemer for The Lit Pub
Review: Jay Besemer for Raintaxi
new forms and meditations for the pressurized libertine monk
Scrambler Books, 2011
Review: Aimee Herman at Fact-Simile
Review: Megan Burns at Horseless Press
“Holding j/j hastain’s new forms and meditations for the pressurized libertine monk, I can feel my body push away from its disciplined and well-groomed version of itself; my pulse quickens, readying my system for a revitalizing intake. So as with certain religious reading practices, I take this book, open to any page, and know that the capsule of poetry in front of me is a gift: of luscious language, wild humor, mystery, and self-knowledge. Despite the “libertine” of its title, here is a deeply principled system of desire that seeks the beloved via language beyond binaries (text/image, penis/vagina, lyrical/philosophical, I/you, peace/violence). Here are pages of stunningly instructive “inter-mixtures/of a third life.”
“Tarot reading for an apparition or phantasm,” is it possible? There is no doubt j/j hastain is making our new poetry of oracle. Poetry I want, poetry you want, poetry very much wanted. It’s not poetry about everything being all right. It’s better for you than any liar’s subterfuge. How else will we get the love? It’s beautiful in here, this book a “cosmic awe maw” of inexplicable tenderness. This is a book I will give to the ones I share the best parts of this world with.
“Here hastain texturally experiments with expression where there are no words. Flirting, enmeshing and always returning us to what we are—a physically felt and unfeeling body. This body and body of work is the way of cyborgs, of hybrids and of the libertine monk. This poetics, as the title points, is paradoxical play with “both burlesque and butoh“; with libertine and monk. As vispo it sculpts space. Extrusions, protrusions, and dents are the material where wild collisions spark precedent imaginings. “burning architectures“ inhabit captions, and shapes indirectly paint. In this space we find place in our stressed times to dive into a “liquidic us” where we are tossed, lose hold, and are held influx. This is neither love poem nor not for it is one and in all.”
“Poetic-graphic collage is only a fraction of the feat j/j hastain is pursuing in new forms and meditations for the pressurized libertine monk – rife with fearlessness and sexual desire, this book is a raison d’être for the integration of digital moments into the current publishing structure. This is it. Open your eyes.”
Review: Eileen Tabios
Review: Tom Becker at Galatea Resurrects
“the ulterior eden” presents us with a contemporary Song of Songs in which allegory is subverted by eros into a more explicit and boldly unconventional passion. Large with life and ecstatic with the “names and innumerable sensations” of adoration, this communion joins beloved and beloved in the erotic chaos of a “newest pronoun.” j/j hastain makes this pact of bounty both politically and spiritually charged, shaping poetry’s intimacies as a means through which we can “mature all historical/grief/ into luminosity.
prurient anarchic omnibus
Meeting Eyes Bindery (Spuyten Duyvil), 2011
Review: Tom Becker at Galatea Resurrects
Review: Michael Leong at Word for Word
Review: Aimee Herman at The Lit Pub
“A work of rich clear sensual language, of ‘thermal tremble and juice,’ these poems and photos pull the weaver’s threads together, bring focus to ‘wherein we can be a root to the sea.’ Sinewy lines are constantly ‘quoting my biology back to me as vow’ and display a ‘multi-creative musculature’ we desperately need and desire. j/j is the real deal, reclaiming a space for engendered anarchy, opening Pandora’s secret treasure trove, playing with fire, sound and love.”
“Here the elemental ground opens as j/j hastain creates multiple sacred sites, the body as it enlarges and contracts, the meaning as it moves in and out of absence and presence, consciousnesses and its negation: these shrines. Here the text is planted in the image, the life is planted in the book, what of life trembles and transforms as it tries again and again to open into writing. A beautiful and complex anti-memoir, dear weaver of disparates, connects the reader to a yet to be named source “wherein we were a root to the sea.”
a womb-shaped wormhole
BlazeVOX Books, 2011
Speaking with Eileen Tabios: Bloodjet Writing Hour
Review: Debrah Morkun
Review: Carrie Hunter
“j/j hastain’s book a womb-shaped wormhole is one beginning for a world attempting to make itself in advance of its articulation. But it can be articulated by scents, which is to say, ‘traces’—like musk, patchouli, mustard, ‘split truffles,’ or even attar of long-dead altars and imagined memories. In this beginning lie the orgasms of fractals, revealing how fractions require flesh as condition precedent to existence—for who we may not at first recognize is nonetheless not that different from you and me”
—Eileen R. Tabios
Out of Print
Pavement Saw Press, 2011