Even if one does not accept the sometimes metaphysical import
Nemerov ascribes to the images, the intensity of his examination of
them may well guide one not only to look harder at Arbus’s already
widely and profoundly scrutinized canon, but at all images. What
Nemerov calls “the fanatical quality of attention in poet and
photographer,” he himself has in spades, as well as a rich mystical
imagination. It’s unlikely that anyone who reads this book will put
it down less critical, less observant, or less attentive to the
possible, at turns fanciful and profound, relations between
things.
*Hyperallergic*
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