Landscapes tilt, light refracts, and thought drifts like pollen through a microscope’s view. In Radial Symmetry, figures emerge at the cusp of knowing—part field guide, part lived dream. Here, the speaker is both witness and presence, tracking the entanglements of poetic imagination as well as the frightful tremors of ecological grief. A trained biologist, Larson charts the hush between observation and awe: where bodies are cities, where ghost nets drift into elegy.
Poetry survives because it haunts, and it haunts because it is simultaneously utterly clear and deeply mysterious; because it cannot be accounted for, it cannot be exhausted. The poems in Radial Symmetry are comparatively direct, accessible, easy to read. But Katherine Larson has that gift Yeats had, what Keats had, a power to enthrall the ear, and the ear is stubborn, easily as stubborn as the mind: it will not let this voice go."
-Louise Glück, Judge, Yale Younger Poets Prize
Winner of the 2010 Yale Series of Younger Poets, Yale University Press
Winner of the 2011 Gold Award for Poetry, Foreword Indies Book of the Year
Winner of the 2012 Levis Reading Prize, Virginia Commonwealth University
Winner of the 2012 Kate Tufts Discovery Award, Claremont Graduate University
PRAISE
The synthesis of experience and curiosity that Larson no doubt uses in her work as a field ecologist and research scientist is here applied to verse. The natural world has never felt more physical, more alive with tiny movements and infinite textures—and so titillating, as when she writes, “We hear the cactus whisper / pollinate me furry moth.”
-Nicole Rudick, The Paris Review
Poem by poem, Radial Symmetry exhibits an extraordinary wakefulness, an immersion in nuance that enriches experience… immediacy comes with intimacy, a word which recurs throughout the book, and suggests the contiguities among different forms of life and between people, even strangers. "Djenné, Mali" vividly conjures the place's market day and concludes with a standkeeper taking the speaker's hand in her hennaed one: "Radiant palm to my palm–/ Hot flowers with such patient faces." In an impoverished town, or disappearing marine environment, such tenderness evokes our sense of humanity, just one of many insights in this impressive debut.
-Carrie Etter, The Independent
The book, Radial Symmetry, earned Larson the Yale Series of Younger Poets prize, which since it started in 1919 has honored promising young poets for their first books, poets such as John Ashbery and Adrienne Rich and Robert Hass, titans whom Larson can stand with. She is that good, and her style captures and expands on some of the most significant stylistic achievements of contemporary American verse.
-Adam Plunkett, BOOKFORUM
As a poet and research ecologist, Larson allows her scientific background into the poems but doesn’t attitudinize cold and objective scientific investigation as art; rather, reading the collection, we find tender poetic reckonings nuanced by science, replete with the ineffable, the unknowable, a creation that touts fact as “[a] fullness only partially fathomed.”
Radial Symmetry deserves attention not because Larson’s background fulfills some curiosity for readers but because of the profuse landscapes, sophisticated yet unidealized insights, and sultry language she renders without conceit, posture, or willful obfuscation. Above all, and we should remember, Katherine Larson is a poet writing poetry that attempts a scrupulous look at a violent and arresting world.
-Emilia Phillips, Blackbird
Larson’s language also extends antennae (as far as it is possible) into the immeasurable spaces between related objects. The reaching – for speaker and reader – develops as a necessary, stimulating, gorgeous, provisional gesture. But there is nothing tentative about the fearful symmetry and impact of Larson’s book.
-Ron Slate, On the Seawall
In her recent collection of poems, Radial Symmetry, Yale Younger Series-winner Katherine Larson examines our culture’s increasingly stark division between scientist and artist, and ultimately makes a strong case for reassessing it. A research scientist herself, Larson explores how science and art collapse into each other, articulating her experiences in sensual, Cartesian terms—and the result is work that is both intellectually and emotionally engaging.
-Tory Adkisson, Ploughshares
I love the way Larson seamlessly reintroduces soft, emotional facets to the perceived objective and cold nature of scientific artifacts. In her poetry, science has room to breach the rigid bounds of objectivity and to expand, to branch, radially and emotionally, into something breathtakingly artistic: a dissected squid has “gills creased like satin,” and its formaldehyde-preserved heart “blooms” like a flower, expanding “between cubes of ice.”
-Callie Cho, The Phoenix