Denounced and suppressed in 1970s Stalinist Albania, Zeqo’s poems explode socialist realism with exuberant bursts of imagination. Though Zeqo says, “I don’t want to overwhelm you with metaphors” it’s just one of the many playful ruses put on by this surrealist dreamer stuck in a land of repressive bureaucrats. Throughout this collection—which culls 67 poems from Zeqo’s Meduza
—he does nothing if not overwhelm with shimmering imagery: “Ten dolphins jump/ in the April sea./ Ten living hearts/ in the sea of my blood.” Reminiscent of other rabble-rousing poets born mid-20th century in the Soviet Union’s shadow (such as Slovenia’s Tomaz Salamun and Poland’s Piotr Sommer), these poems reflect a particularly Albanian point of view: “And now, unpredictably:/ in this beauty parlor in an alpine town,/ girls sit fearlessly in the dryers,/ helmeted against this history.” At times Zeqo’s language (or Miller’s translations of it) becomes almost comically indulgent—“I want to kick the planet like a soccer ball/ into the open goal of the future”—but every poem crackles with life. This is poetry set free from the bonds of enforced “realism,” and if it’s at times overzealous, it remains a pleasure throughout. (Nov.)
