The Earth in the Attic

The Earth in the Attic

The Earth in the Attic

The Earth in the Attic

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Overview

The Earth in the Attic reads like a quiet storm of human emotions and experiences. . . . Joudah's poems explore loss, displacement, suffering, and longing. They drift from the personal and specific to the larger stories of peoples and nations that Joudah encounters. . . . [His] unique talent is to offer poetry readers a look at a wounded and fractured world through his eyes.”—Lena Khalaf Tuffaha, Institute for Middle East Understanding
 
Winner of the Yale Younger Poets competition, 2007
 
In The Earth in the Attic, Fady Joudah, a Palestinian-American physician, explores big themes—identity, war, religion, what we hold in common—while never losing sight of the quotidian, the specific. Contest judge Louise Glück describes the poet in her Foreword as “that strange animal, the lyric poet in whom circumstance and profession . . . have compelled obsession with large social contexts and grave national dilemmas.” She finds in his poetry an incantatory quality and concludes, “These are small poems, many of them, but the grandeur of conception is inescapable. The Earth in the Attic is varied, coherent, fierce, tender; impossible to put down, impossible to forget.”

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780300134315
Publisher: Yale University Press
Publication date: 04/15/2008
Series: Yale Series of Younger Poets , #102
Pages: 96
Product dimensions: 5.88(w) x 9.50(h) x 0.25(d)

About the Author

Fady Joudah is a Palestinian-American medical doctor and has served as a field member of Doctors Without Borders. He has published six volumes of poetry and translated several collections, including Ghassan Zaqtan’s Like a Straw Bird It Follows Me. His prizes and awards include the 2024 Jackson Poetry Prize. He lives in Houston, TX.

Interviews

Pulse 10.

In the calm
After the rain has bombed

The earth, the ants
March out of their shelters
 
One long frantic migration line:

They hit the concrete floor
Of our dining and living
 
Space then turn into the shadow
The wall makes: a straight angle
 
Is the surest compass
To the courtyard wreckage of dirt and gravel.

Did they know the wind
Would airdrop
 
New rations their way?
Because always two or three

Lock their horns
To the acid end

Over nothing
It seems more

Than an impulse, the debris
Plenty for all.

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