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With crisp, elegant language, sharp wit and resonant images, Julie Bruck's new book gentles the largesse of life out of its many smallnesses.
The way a straw buoys up in a can of pop, or a friend's dress holds her shape, even on its hanger: Bruck textures her poetry with a life "you could close your hand around." Bruck's is the urban world so many of us walk through, eyes closed. But Bruck's eyes are wide open, keen and collecting. With teeth and heart, she cracks open the ordinary to reveal life's love and loss, joy and fragility, its extraordinary fullness.
"Like one of the characters in this book, you'll be 'new to such abundance' if you haven't read Julie Bruck's work before. I've been a fan since her first publication."—Lorna Crozier
"Each word carries a weight of strangeness, curiosity, closeness...The End of Travel [is] almost perfect."—Peter O'Brien
"She is a master of the understated but precise metaphor, the image that lingers in the mind and makes us look again"—Arc Poetry Magazine
, Montreal GazetteJulie Bruck is the author of two previous books, both with Brick: The End of Travel (1999), and The Woman Downstairs<.em> (1993). Her recent work has appeared in The New Yorker, Ploughshares, and The Walrus, among other publications. A Montreal native, she lives in San Francisco with her husband and daughter.