I was planning to write a review for this book during its premiere on November 26, 2018. But the event that marked the next day diverted my thoughts in a completely different direction and never came back to the book while it was still " warm 'on the shelf. The event in question is personal and very unpleasant (life-threatening), so I will miss the details. The important thing is that this book remains. Although much later, it is warm in my hands and I finally managed to hear truly what its pages whisper. And maybe it's better that I talk about her from a distance of time. In that past moment, I would have spoken more through the prism of my impressions of the premiere and the sound-sensational performance that Chris had prepared for us (and which I highly appreciated) than about the book itself.


The book is divided into four sections, each beginning with a quote setting the main topic: In between, ex post, (a) part, nihil privativum. In the first cycle, what his name suggests, Chris reveals to us the variety of possibilities and nuances of staying or staying in between. It is interesting to try to list all the "in between" that are present in the cycle and how many different starting points they place on us. "Between two mouth bites" where, according to Chris, "an eternity of uselessness can be sheltered," "the fine line between our two body islands," "between one step and another, between one final phrase, between one another. and yourself, ”as well as any other unspoken“ in between ”that require or over-exact the senses too closely to be sensed. I like the capture of eternity between these two biting lips. That brief moment of silence, as you do something routine and seemingly think nothing of it, but actually brings together a whole existence, unfolded to the point of eternity.


Another unfolding of eternity is the following poem (I do not write a title because most of the verses in the book do not have one):


let me sink
to read you with goggles
when I emerge
I will exhale the words


Here, Chris Enchev refers to that ability only at certain, moments, "underwater" or exceptional, to derive from eternal word, from the higher mind or the collective unconscious. Call it whatever you like, and in those moments it is usually quiet, silent, like underwater, as soon as you come to the surface when you return to reality, you can exhale and utter what you have seen or read.


Another cycle poem that made a big impression on me, especially this phrase:


distances are a matter of prison
of freedom no less


I cannot help but read this poem through the lens of what is happening around the world at this moment, including in our country. What the distances between us depend on how we look at them. Distances do not exist if we meet in our spiritual freedom.


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A very philosophical poem from the second cycle is:


sometimes things are like that
what they look like
sometimes not
the question is, is there anything
who look like us
as we look for an answer


And really, looking at ourselves, we pay too much attention to how we view and experience things. The answer may not be as much in us as in things themselves, just subjective is always preferred, since goals are made of subjectivity. And how do we look about things? A sphere of contradictions that try to maintain meaning. And what happens when we disappear?


with slow disappearance
the relief is captured
in a specific blink
aggravating as much
one stone weighs
on its place
to without you


Chris Enchev's poetry is a serious intellectual challenge, which must, however, be undertaken because it provides many answers for ourselves, the readers, who we would scarcely have come to otherwise, as the questions are absolutely beyond the everyday, the punchline and the logical. This is poetry of over-demanding, poetry that gives so much as long as you can give it of yourself. To give that totality of time, concentration, and willingness to give it to yourself, to allow it to yourself, to allow it to give. This book is open, even when its covers have jammed all the content inside. The pages are just ready to talk at any moment, but not screaming, not intrusive, but very personal, frank, to the point of stripping, but also of a friendly embrace, which few books have as superpowers.


I strongly recommend the book to all those who are ready to encounter a variety of poetry, not aiming at imitation or exhibitionist display, or sinking into repeated repetition! This is poetry for those who are not afraid to look beyond, but each time in a new way!

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