Winner of the 1998 T. S. Eliot Prize
A collection of unforgettable poems, Where Horizons Go is as compelling as it is technically stunning. Where Horizons Go bridges the sometimes vast distances between the personal and the impersonal, the transitory and the permanent, the imagined and the real, the internal and the external, the self and the other. The language here is always clear, always controlled without sacrificing sincerity or honesty. Read this book again and again and be rewarded every time.
Poem after successful poem add up to an impressive total. Keen intelligence, keen feelings. All in all, it’s a collection likely to persuade readers who think they don’t like poetry that they do, after all.
—X. J. Kennedy, 1998 T. S. Eliot judge
Rhina Espaillat does not strike grand and stylish literary gestures, she writes poems—strong, individual, and often ingenious. One by one these suave and lyric pieces add up into something both unforgettably personal and personable. Has any Latina written more movingly of the rich and heavy inheritance of bilinguality? Where Horizons Go is a gift to the English language.
—Dana Gioia, author of The Gods of Winter
If You Ask Me
Children Blowing Bubbles
Man Raking Leaves
Driving Through It
Six of One
Checking It Twice
For Evan, Who Says I Am Too Tidy
Para Mi Tataranieto El Astropionero
For My Great-Great Grandson the Space Pioneer
Done with Mirrors
The Prodigal Son Goes over Notes for His Memoirs
Swinging an Arc Before Him As He Goes
How It Begins
Rachmaninoff on the Mass Pike
Interview with a Poltergeist
For the Friend Who Guided Me Home from a Poetry Reading
through Traffic, on Unfamiliar Roads
Here, the dazzling Rhina Espaillat speaks on how a perfect fit opened a Pandora’s box.
—Women’s Voices for a Change, September 2012
The poems are terrific: moving, intelligent, authentically felt and beautifully musical. When Espaillat works in rhyme and meter, which she does frequently, the power of her narratives and perceptions transcends their difficult forms.
—San Diego Union-Tribune, August 7, 2010
Its language is colloquial and direct; its wisdom, unpretentious; its wit, unforced; its domestic themes, as elegantly exhibited as the Vermeer painting reproduced on the book’s cover.