March and Mad Women
“Linda Aldrich explores movingly ‘that flawed space,’ to borrow a phrase from Eavan Boland, that can come between the words ‘woman’ and ‘poet.’ The poems in March and Mad Women confront and honor, marvel and puzzle over the ways of women leading ordinary lives. ‘I do the things I need to do,’ says the speaker in the collection's opening poem....When I came to the description of just-baked bread loaves arranged on the counter ‘like Conestoga wagons / without wheels, going nowhere,’ when I felt the exquisite sadness and beauty of their lingering there amid Linda Aldrich's lovely and intelligent poems, I wanted and needed nothing else.”—Nancy Eimers
“This collection adheres like the layered movement of surf, offering all at once the deep and sometimes scarcely palpable undertow of grief from the loss of a mother, the tidal rhythms of weather and the natural world, and poems that spin away from these themes to touch upon bits of others’ lives, other layers of the speaker’s life, other forms and other voices; these poems ripple through the collection like the small, self-contained waves that add light and variation to water’s surface. To sit with this book is to relax into the turbulent and ultimately soothing flow of a deeply observed life—one rendered with a fine combination of restraint and generosity.” —Leslie Ullman
"These innovative poems enter a necessary strangeness when they reach the edges of silence and mystery. In one of the book’s threads, the poet explores the complicated loss of her mother in poems that are both haunting and radiant….The poet’s voice is passionate, musical, particular, and, finally, fearless. By the time the reader encounters the line “I am ready now to take my place” (“Pantoum to Heal”), the poems and the poet are already rooted deep in the reader’s imagination."
"These are poems of splendid lyrical delicacy and canny narrative movement, and they address our sorrows with unflappable brio. Foothold is a debut of real distinction."
"In poems so precisely beautiful they seem effortless, Aldrich articulates loneliness and sadness alongside joy and communion."