A knife so sharp its edge cannot be seen by Erin Noteboom

Erin Noteboom’s A knife so sharp its edge cannot be seen takes exact and exquisite measurement of what carries a voice through illness, grief, loss, and through the failures and triumphs of work and love. Various theories and hypotheses are tested in these poems: sadness is knowledge and science “is only half a turn from love.” Whether Noteboom is examining the life and work of physicist Marie Curie or compressing imagistic gems from plaintive, important questions like “What lasts?”, there is everywhere in these poems a shadow-scratching curiosity, vital research, and an acknowledgement of the long waits in a life between discoveries. An essential marriage between the arts and science, A knife so sharp its edge cannot be seen is full of poems that readers will savour long after closing their eyes and raising the vial.

Praise for A knife so sharp its edge cannot be seen: 

“Erin Noteboom’s is an elemental poetry of bones, salt, water, dust, and at the same time a celebration on all things as holy. […] [H]er gift is to flare the ordinary detail as well as the extraordinary event into vision, meaning, and the magnification of spirit.” — Jane Hirshfield

“I have long been a fan of Erin Noteboom’s poetry. And no wonder. These new poems are as good as it gets.” — Lorna Crozier

Press Coverage for A knife so sharp its edge cannot be seen:

“Erin Noteboom’s A knife so sharp its edge cannot be seen is a slow burn of simmering wisdom.” — Micheline Maylor, Quill & Quire

“‘To write the things you love’ is a suitable way to describe this consistently strong collection. Clearly, Noteboom has heeded her own advice but I’d go further, borrowing a verb that she once used to describe her difficulty in trying to write a series of rune poems, by which she has been ‘enspelled.’ As she is enspelled, so are we.” — John Vardon, The New Quarterly

“She excavates intangible and indescribable moments from scientific experiments to blur lines between worlds that otherwise seem separate.” — Manahil Bandukwala, The Fiddlehead

Editor’s Pick by Jane Hirshfield — Ploughshares