Silence and silences

Literature, nature, human rights, and much else are haphazardly touched upon in this labyrinthine meditation from poet and essayist Wilde-Menozzi (Mother Tongue). She presents a free-associative ramble over topics that are more or less connected to the concept of silence, broadly and blurrily construed: "Putting that dimension of silence into words is a contradiction: it is the silence beyond all silences, the dark and light of transcendence." Recurring motifs include her own partial deafness; the herons poised silently in rivers near her home in Parma, Italy, and New York, where she teaches; the suffering that Nigerian refugees reveal in her writing classes; the deaths of family and friends; the addictive speed and ephemerality of internet communications; the exaltation of language by Dante and the corruption of language by Donald Trump. Together these musings feel like a 400-page prose poem that unfolds through covert allusion and lyrical evocation rather than argument and analysis. There are aesthetic riches to be found, including a recreation of Wisconsin snowstorms in Wilde-Menozzi's childhood, with their "marvelous sensation of quiet and disappearance and the delight of new shapes, cars as rounded bunkers, and drifts like sea waves rising." More often, unfortunately, the result is muddled pensées that make much of this a baffling slog. There's a lot said, but little communicated. (Dec.)

Ruminations on the seemingly endless meanings behind silence. Employing a kind of stream-of-consciousness style, Wilde-Menozzi explores the concept of silence in the context of literature, art, religion, nature, technology, politics, and more. She shares colorful descriptions of moments of silence in the wild ("The Baltic Sea in November on the edge of Saint Petersburg was a color, again, where the brain met the universe"), meditates on the legal right to remain silent, and describes schoolchildren finding joy in reading. "Reading a book," she writes, "is a way of withdrawing into silence." The author also contemplates sounds heard during her morning walks or when she is trying to work or sleep. She shares memories of meeting a composer who makes recordings of empty churches and cathedrals during the night and an abortionist who feels fearful and alone, silenced by those who do not believe in choice. Wilde-Menozzi contends that stereotypes about race are now being challenged with "resistant and audible speech," and her assessment of the Trump administration's use of social media is sharp and unique: "Noise and ideology bang unchecked in sentences and a single lie can cast doubt." She also shares a meaningful quote from Rachel Carson about why she felt compelled to write Silent Spring. Upon publication, writes Wilde-Menozzi, Carson "justified her commitment: 'There would be no peace for me if I kept silent'….It was an extraordinary act, singular and brave." Many of the entries the author shares are incisive and well written, but some feel out of place in relation to the theme of the book, creating a less-than-coherent whole. Perhaps sensing possible reader disconnection, at times Wilde-Menozzi interjects with comments regarding why she is writing about the topic or why she is using a particular arrangement of words, which further disturb the narrative flow. An intriguing concept studded with insights, but, plagued by noise, it falls short in the delivery. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.