The Tunnel: Selected Poems of Russell Edson (Volume 3) Paperback – November 5, 1994

I got this for myself many years ago, but Amazon never forgets and asks me to review it from time to time. Now that I'm an author with a book on Amazon, I realize the value of reviews. So here's the scoop.THE TUNNEL gripped me so much, I mimicked Edson's style for months after I read it. I even ended up having a short story published in a literary magazine that was written it the style of and based on Edson's THE TUNNEL. My story was called "The Father's Beard", and I based it on the story in this book about fire racing up curtains. It's been years since I returned to Edson, but if you're looking for a new kind of read, one that's quick, but hard-hitting, look no further.

Edison is one of the most fun and creative authors to ever write a prose poem. His poems are short, magical, thought provoking and extremely imaginative. Would recommend to anyone who likes the absurd or enjoys (the sparse field) of prose poetry. Much less serious than Creely and much more fun.

I did enjoy this, particularly some of the more popular poems, but I have to say that it did get repetitive quickly. Almost every poem follows the same 'formula.' I would have enjoyed a bit more variety.

Great condition for the book!

Only for people that enjoy something out of the norm. A great purchase on my part.

Although this book has its own special place on my favorite's shelf, I hate to put it back there, where it isn't admired, isn't read. I want it out, right here, open, so I can reread and reread and shout about it.

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Never having done any creative writing as an adult, I took my first writing course many years ago, back when I was in my 30s. I was given conventional short stories and poems as models but nothing really clicked with me, that is, I knew I wanted to write but wasn’t really inspired by those conventional ways of writing.Then one day whilst visiting a library in down-town Philadelphia, I came across an anthology called ‘The Anti-Story’ with a collection of various stories that were reacting against conventional form. One such story was ‘Against Length’ and included this piece by Russell Edson:------Father, Father, What Have You Done?A man straddling the apex of his roof cries, giddyup. The house rears up on its back porch and all its bricks fall apart and the house crashes to the ground.His wife cries from the rubble, father, father, what have you done?------The experience was so powerful it almost put me on my knees. This was it – the type of writing that was for me. I spent the next 5+ years writing prose poems. I found editors of little magazines who were happy to publish. And each time I had one of my books of prose poems published, I sent a copy to Russell Edson as a way of saying ‘Thank you’. Russell was kind enough to send me a letter back each time, a letter in the form of a prose poem, that is!Anyway, I mention this as a way of encouraging readers who ordinarily shy away from poetry to check out Russell Edson. Surreal, fanciful, bizarre, enigmatic. And this book, a collection from 7 different Edson books, is a treasure.Here are two poems from the collection:-----A Performance At Hog TheaterThere was once a hog theater where hogs performedas men, had men been hogs.One hog said, I will be a hog in a field which hasfound a mouse which is being eaten by the same hogwhich is in the field and which has found the mouse,which I am performing as my contribution to theperformer's art.Oh let's just be hogs, cried an old hog.And so the hogs streamed out of the theater crying,only hogs, only hogs . . .------The Reason Why The Closet-Man Is Never SadThis is the house of the closet-man. There are no rooms,just hallways and closets.Things happen in rooms. He does not like things tohappen . . . Closets, you take things out of closets,you put things into closets, and nothing happens . . .Why do you have such a strange house?I am the closet-man, I am either going or coming, and Iam never sad.But why do you have such a strange house?I am never sad . .------Since I mentioned how Russell inspired me to write prose poems, here is one as an example:Oh How Time FliesA girl wearing a ruffled pink dress and sneakers hops on a merry-go-round and mounts what she thinks is a horse but is actually a sewing machine. She stretches her legs until her toes barely touch the throat plate.Perplexed, sensing something woefully wrong, she peers down at all the dials: buttonhole dial, stitch-width dial, stitch-control dial, stitch-pattern dial, reverse-stitch dial.A bell rings and the merry-go-round goes round, lights flashing, organ music playing, horses and needle bobbing. Round and round she goes until her hands and legs swell with veins, her face puckers with wrinkles, and all her hair turns silvery gray.

Arrived in pristine condition, which was surprising as it came in an open package with this and other books exposed, they could have easily fallen out in transit. Anyway, superb selection of prose poems from a sui generis poet.