Something about Seth Abramson's poetry feels distanced yet intensely personal at the same time. This paradox became clear at the beginning of ""The Suburban Ecstasies,"" the opening lines of which immediately strike readers with their melodic cadence and figurative imagery. Fingers ""steeple together / as if to poke out the sun"" and Gideon, the main character of Abramson's epic poem, is subjected to a violent event.
Violence is a pervasive theme throughout the epic, and even in the quieter moments, one feels as if they are witnessing something as significant as an act of physical violence. Experiencing Abramson for the first time is a mixture of bewilderment, assault and awe.
The epic is not an easy read, though it is brimming with lyrical moments that are appreciable without further depth or context. To get the full impact you must pay attention and read slowly in order to hold the narrative thread together.
But the intellectual intricacy of the ""Ecstasies"" is precisely what makes the read so satisfying. Themes and rhythms are layered upon each other and cycle between autobiography and fiction, truth and myth. Abramson makes stylistic gestures toward classical epic poetry with his use of repetition, epithets and elevated language.
As for the plot, many things happen, to put it simplistically. Gideon is a youth and experiences the torment and ecstasy of adolescence, then the torment and ecstasy of love, then that of war and work, the alienation of a father and the turmoil of the courts. In between, there is a lot of travel, and with that, a lot of mythical exposition.
At times it is unclear what is happening—whether Gideon or someone else is telling the story—but a clear history is not the point of ""The Suburban Ecstasies.""
How does Abramson manage to write about all that in a 122-page book of poetry? It seems impossible, but he does it. Each poem is a potent distillation of an experience. Each word seems essential and precious because of the verse form. As a poet, Abramson is masterful enough to avoid seeming shallow or tedious, despite the length of the piece. The superimposition of the mythical and the exotic onto the practical event creates an illusion of mystery and magic.
Maybe this is what gives ""Ecstatsies"" the paradoxical feeling of being remote yet personal at the same time. All the brain's association with ancient cultures and legends are surfaced and transplanted onto the ordinary life, and the effect is ecstatic. If you want to find out what I'm talking about so abstractly, ""The Suburban Ecstasies"" is worth the read.
