For many of those who’ve lived there, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan can seem like a magical place because nature there feels so potent and, at times, full of mystery. After having grown up there, Raymond Luczak can certainly attest to its mythical powers. In Chlorophyll, he reimagines Lake Superior and its environs as well as his houseplants as a variety of imaginary and historical characters.
Ghosts dress in only gray and white. This is how they camouflage their volcanic selves. Lake Superior is bottled with them. You can't see them but they move like fish...
Spring is a girl who's cried all night only to find that morning easily forgives the coldness of him having left her stranded among the thicket of evergreens...
Reviews
“Giving voice to the natural world, Raymond Luczak allows the rocks, trees, lakes, insects, and flowers that are part of flora and fauna of the region to speak for themselves, and they remind us that we are human, living in a more than human world.”
— William Reichard, Our Delicate Barricades Downed and The Night Horse: New and Selected Poems
In Raymond Luczak’s Chlorophyll, the devastating natural beauty of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula is imbued with passions its reticent human inhabitants are loathe to express. Trees, lakes, and stones air their infatuations, their grudges, their mythologies and griefs. Through this forest of the otherwise unsaid, we catch glimpses of a speaker who knows there is no line to blur between ‘person’ and ‘nature.’
— Emily Van Kley, Arrhythmia and The Rust and the Cold