RaveThe Chicago Review of Books... nothing short of exquisite. Laid bare in these pages is a map of holes that reveal pain and death, as the question of whether or not to continue on in the face of suffering is illuminated. Tierney serves as a sort of backwards prophet of dark visions inviting us to experience past and present realities of illness and grief. We witness not just his memories, but also those that he has borrowed from others ... Don’t be fooled by this volume’s slim size (yes, even for a book of poetry, it appears meager in its 80 pages): these poems are intimate and unyielding. Rise and Float is rife with the ghosts of Tierney’s experiences, ancestors, and friends—those that are gone but are still very present in the author’s mind and, now, on the page ... Because of Tierney’s consistent eloquence and penchant for smart, compelling rhythm, reading Rise and Float is a fluid, albeit dark, journey, perhaps not unlike what it feels like to travel through a wormhole or some strange dream ... Tierney doesn’t draw clear distinctions between physical or emotional afflictions, or what is memory and what is present reality, which makes this such a refreshing collection. We tend to overcomplicate things, asking for proof, examining criteria for a diagnosis, doubting people’s experience of reality. Perhaps, Tierney seems to suggest, pain is pain, and the question of whether to continue on in the face of suffering is universal, though lived out in different ways. If you venture deep enough into these poems, intellectually and emotionally, you will see that everything Tierney discusses is just another facet of the same conundrum ... While Tierney catalogs a lineage of pain, he does so with delicacy and finesse. Scenes of death and loss are not bereft of color and life ... Tierney exhibits tremendous care for both his tragic subjects and his craft as he blends the past with the present ... we might be grateful for the way that Tierney so eloquently mapped out strains of suffering in this collection ... Tierney is reestablishing today the reality of shared journeys of grief, suffering, and survival. It has been a long time since I’ve read a debut collection that stirred me as deeply as Rise and Float, and I highly anticipate more poems of beauty and truth from this poet.
Yelena Moskovich
RaveLos Angeles Review of BooksReading this sexy fever dream of a book, so visceral and poetic, I was forced to think about how I’ve viewed my own body over the years—what it’s meant for me to inhabit the female form ... the writing here is fresh and vibrant and the story features an unlikely group of impulsive and curious characters ... Tanya seems to be enduring her body as a kind of punishment. Her experience raises the question of what it feels like to lust so much, so uncontainably and uncontrollably, that you hate yourself. Moskovich demonstrates this battle via queer relationships and seemingly unrequited love, providing glimpses of Tanya’s coming of age and discovery of her sexuality. These sorts of explorations of the body are a trademark of Moskovich’s writing: she presents them in a way that is so elegant and engaging that you can’t help but fall in love with the characters and their struggles ... a genre-bending work that isn’t quite like anything I’ve ever read. A Door Behind a Door challenges the most basic desires and beliefs of its readers. Those who enjoy experimental forms, thought-provoking material, and a good thrill will delight in this haunting novel.
