“The intimacy, yes. The kinship. Here is my poem; here is my mind.”
Dosa and Herzog invest their gaze on two decidedly different surfaces of the taut rope on which Katia and Maurice walk: the glow and the burn.
It accumulates, repeats, obsesses, this interest in Kollwitz’s work, always back to the physical shock of her art.
When all is said and done, the mountain grants no quarter to those who refuse to respect its dominion.
Fischer is a poet of unique ambition and intelligence.