SHORT LISTED FOR THE FORWARD PRIZE 2008 FOR BEST FIRST COLLECTION
The title poem is more than ‘one of those poetic re-workings of a minor historical event, in Allison McVety’s hands we’re in an entirely different, witty and weird world.
— Anne-Marie Fyfe
Sensuous detail, intellectual curiosity and an echoing, confident music all make this a fully-imagined poetic world.
— Jane Draycott
An impeccably clear and sculpted collection. Allison McVety’s first book shines. It signals the opening of a career of a writer from whom we can expect wonders
— David Morley
The nub of Allison McVety’s poems is family history, learnt from her mother’s lap: a father in Special Operations during World War II, tales of telegrams and de-mobs, an uncle dragging the docks for bodies, abused wives and loving, dancing couples. Magical, intriguing stories, which nurtured and fostered her imagination.
Well wrought and distinctive, the personal made universal par excellence. — Susan Utting
The title poem is more than ‘one of those poetic re-workings of a minor historical event, in Allison McVety’s hands we’re in an entirely different, witty and weird world.
— Anne-Marie Fyfe
Sensuous detail, intellectual curiosity and an echoing, confident music all make this a fully-imagined poetic world.
— Jane Draycott
An impeccably clear and sculpted collection. Allison McVety’s first book shines. It signals the opening of a career of a writer from whom we can expect wonders
— David Morley
The nub of Allison McVety’s poems is family history, learnt from her mother’s lap: a father in Special Operations during World War II, tales of telegrams and de-mobs, an uncle dragging the docks for bodies, abused wives and loving, dancing couples. Magical, intriguing stories, which nurtured and fostered her imagination.
Well wrought and distinctive, the personal made universal par excellence. — Susan Utting