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Barry Sheinkopf has been writing poetry, as well as novels and
nonfiction, for decades. In the early 1970s, his poems began to
contain fewer and fewer words. He was producing tanka and haiku,
and not being pleased with the results, when finally it dawned on
him that he really wanted to make poems with no words at all. This,
for a writer, is something of a dilemma. He tried to resolve it by
picking up the first of a series of cameras, in 35-millimeter and
4x5" formats, and attempting to photograph the metaphors he saw all
around him. His goal from the first has been to capture these
exceptional moments in the life around him. If you know that you're
looking at a photograph, he says-something that you know is
real-but can't momentarily identify it, your sense of the world
will be enlarged a little when you suddenly realize what it is and
exclaim, "Aha " This book, then, records a quest for ways of
apprehending the visual world that has never ended for him-of
seeing into the life of forms, to help his viewers grasp that there
are metaphors in everyday experience. Barry Sheinkopf's photographs
have appeared in shows across the northeast United States.
April 1794: The Reign of Terror has been striking France like a
plague for half a year. Daily, hundreds have followed King Louis
XVI and Marie Antoinette to the guillotine-some guilty of real
crimes, some completely innocent. George-Jacques Danton has just
met his own end in a poignant tableau captured for posterity on the
cover of this book. His friend Joseph Fouche returns to Paris on
the very next day, determined to avoid his own execution. How he
does so-and manages to thereby end the Terror by overthrowing the
government of the maniacal Maximilian Robespierre-is the subject of
this first-person period mystery. It is a tale of terror and
trickery, political struggle and sexual intrigue, involving
Fouche's tenacious search for the murderer of Charles-Maurice
Talleyrand's alluring, seventeen-year-old niece and his mistress's
efforts to inherit a fabulous chateau-against the backdrop of our
hero's audacious three-month effort to save his own neck.
When he won the New York City Barton's Bonbonniere Passover Poetry
Contest at the age of fourteen, Barry Sheinkopf's prize was a
five-pound box of chocolates. He had a bad case of acne at the time
and likes to say his career as a poet has gone downhill ever since.
But he has continued to produce poems in a wide range of styes in
the intervening decades, taking up technical challenges ranging
from making traditional stanza and verse forms sound like free
verse, in his first two selected volumes, to his latest work, which
attempts to capture the rhythms and absence of punctuation
characteristic of email.
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