language I'll say yes
from the top of my rib cage
language will you come
out and unearth the salt the certitude
Between the verbs quivering and streaming, White Piano unfolds its variations like musical scores. A play of resonance between pronouns and persons, freely percussive between prose and poetry, and narrating a constellation of questions, White Piano offers readers a 'language that cultivates its own craters of ﬁre and savoir-vie.'
‘I first read Nicole Brossard’s White Piano almost two months ago. Without a doubt I was struck by it, it carried a heavy feeling, a sort of pleasure in its musicality, its language, the space that the pages throughout the book suggest. As such, I was struck with only this feeling, without much to come to in terms of words with which I could discuss it ... The feeling I get after reading good poetry is similar to a sort of visceral reaction that can be present after really good sex, or maybe a really intense roller coaster; the way the water of the ocean feels washing over you when the sun is out and there’s a warmth in the air, this reality of being overcome – almost a sort of satisfaction.’
– HTML Giant
'At once achingly aware of mortality and hell-bound in its determination to press forward, change, and grow, White Piano is as brave as it is linguistically rich.'
– Quill & Quire
'Brossard conﬂates writing with lovemaking – "at the hour of bedsheets or ink" – the poems forming a grammar of desire, like a diagrammed body . . . The translation Brossard is obsessed with here is of a different sort, the translation of bodily memories, resurrecting old loves. For Brossard words cover the wounds, "colours that precede / the iodine of words / torment of punctuation."' – The Believer (on Notebook of Roses and Civilization)
'[Brossard] writes with a poetic intensity that burns select lines and sometimes entire paragraphs into the reader's mind.'
– Montreal Gazette