Two kinds of people: poems from mile end
Contributors
Vincenzo Di Nicola, Arsinée Donoyan, Stanzi Vaubel
Description
Two Kinds of People begins at a crossroads. Faced with two possible paths, what kind of person are you? Choose your direction, left or right, because there are only two kinds of people. At the crossroads, you stand looking around, and as you do, the road begins to abstract itself, the clarity of this duality fading as the two paths fill with different shading, color, the layers becoming visible to you. Yet, you haven’t even taken a step, still frozen, between your two choices. Slowly, the stiffness turns into poise, as your awareness opens outwards, allowing you to take in the poetry of the moment. These words guide you:
… here’s to chaos,
here’s to spontaneity and spunk
mixing gailyAnd to more stolen apples,
taken freely –
Yes. Please. To more of this!
This book of poetry invites you into the subtle porosity of the present, found in small moments: on street corners, between strangers, friends, and in the many ingredients you might add to your borscht soup. The poetry reminds, gently, that there is
; only this world / … ; only today / … ; only we two, face to face
and as you return to the present and recall that you must make a choice between one thing and the other, it is only to realize that you are now in a vast field, without any clear paths in sight. So you must chart your own way forward now, encountering the textures, tastes, smells, and sounds with every step."
~ from the "Afterword" by Stanzi Vaubel, PhD
Back cover blurb
A formidable journey beyond an old Montreal train station. Beginning with a dichotomous quote, Di Nicola embarks on a stroll akin to his philosophical predecessors — Kant in Konigsberg; the Nietzsche of The Wanderer and His Shadow; Heidegger in the Black Forest; and Camus writing The Stranger in Montmartre. As we walk with Di Nicola, we meet René, Ludwig, and Franz and enter his architectural and poetic space through his philosophical pondering, to find bliss in the eyes of a baby girl.
~ Andrei Novac
Playfully, the philosopher-poet engages Montreal’s Mile End in a serious dialogue. We are guided through dialectically opposed notions, past gentling nuances as the quartier provides a context for ever-deepening layers of meaning which arise from the poet’s fascination with all that charges his imagination. As ever, I am intrigued and delighted by Di Nicola’s catholic interests and wry humour.
~ Jan Jorgensen
Reviews
Denis Palumbo: Capital Psychiatry