The shredded Sienese

This book was indeed a sort of cut-and-paste accumulation of art, prose and poetry. Some pieces, like the Osap's Fables, seem at first glance to be completely nonsensical, while others seem to follow thought patterns. The shorter prose paragraphs often fell lyrically upon the ear enough for me to consider them poetry, and in fact often seemed to debate this fact within themselves. I actually found that my favorite piece wasn't one of the cut-up bits that give the Shredder it's unique internal look, but was actually one of the first pieces that falls into the 'prose' category. Gerard de Nerval's Chantilly is an expression of a place, a snapshot almost. The author gives to us his reminiscence about a place he obviously loves, from visual impressions to the memories they inspire, the character of which infinitely colors the impression of the place. Much like Chantilly lace he lays out the places and customs as you might excpect, and then he drops in the harshness of reality, deaths and sorrow that bring the rosy quality of the memories to a much deeper and more soulful hue. This piece is an exceptional example of what I feel gives way to the always present question, what is poetry?