[T]his is a book about the ways in which even our most intimate relationships can slip beyond our control, fracturing along barely perceptible fault lines.
We discover that each of these moments and stories is held to the boat’s body like a clew: tight; so much so as to be nearly indistinguishable from the whole.
Translation always sacrifices something, and Pious, in her translations, has been consistent about the choice to cleave to some formal principles and lean away from others.
At the end of the day, Celestial, Roy, and Andre are three flawed human beings trying to navigate their way through life and love and everything in between, just like many of us.
At one point, I write in my margin: There is no X marks the spot for treasure here. The map is the treasure. Which is another way of saying: this book is the bounty; these poems are the gold.
What started off as a coping mechanism to deal with the widening generational gap within immigrant families, Qamar has shaped into a new philosophy for cultural in-betweeners.