|About the Book|
Elizabeth Hatmaker has a quiet way of crunching up our world. She excels in shaking out the dirty little corners of the mind, particularly the mind of misogynist history. In the person of Elizabeth Short, the so-called Black Dahlia, she has foundMoreElizabeth Hatmaker has a quiet way of crunching up our world. She excels in shaking out the dirty little corners of the mind, particularly the mind of misogynist history. In the person of Elizabeth Short, the so-called Black Dahlia, she has found her heroine, the way Leonard Cohen found Joan of Arc--or perhaps how Raymond Queneau found Zazie in the metro--for in Girl we see Elizabeth Short refracted and perfected through multiple stylistic prisms and processes. The matter of the Black Dahlia is, of course, gigantic, but Hatmaker has it all in the palm of her hand, and locates the worlds pain and hope and justice in the figure of her girl in two pieces. Hatmaker is an exquisite writer, and better than that, she cares about something -- the life and death of a lost girl -- something tiny yet immense.—Dodie BellamyNot your mothers girl in two pieces, but a girl in many pieces, each inked ligament a provocation for for jerks like us who conflate free market logic with cosmic fairness. You think you know what a bad date is? Think again, Dad. Poetrys not free anymore, observes the poet of the Dahlia, and were left reeling with the realization that the thing, the terrible thing, is of our own making.—Joe AmatoElizabeth Hatmaker’s work has appeared in ACM, Epoch, Language and Learning Across the Disciplines, Social Epistemology, Bird Dog, L’Bourgeoizine, MiPOesias, Mandorla, Mirage #4/Period(ical), Mississippi Review and in the anthology Life as We Show It: Writing on Film (City Lights 2009). She teaches creative writing and cultural studies at Illinois State University.