Most of us see the layers of space, but Kuusisto, who has been legally blind since birth, hears them. In these vivid essays, the poet (
Only Bread, Only Light) and memoirist (
Planet of the Blind) indulges and investigates the active listening he deploys to navigate the world around him. He is a keen observer. A crowd is not a crowd to him; instead it is a series of sound points, indicating space, pace, rhythm and mood. The wind is just as complex, as it "carries fragments of noise from far places like an absentminded uncle who doesn't remember what's in his old suitcase." Music is a constant companion, starting with trees tapping on windows, birds calling and his discovery of a Victrola in his grandmother's dusty attic. At times, he lists sounds to guide the reader through his interpretation of a scene, as when he comes upon "four hundred drunken men pushing and cursing" in an airport in Tallinn, Estonia, their boots making the "metaphysical noise called 'the edge of night.' " Through all these sounds and their meaning to him, Kuusisto reveals the nuance of the heard world, transporting the reader as he maps the aural landscape.
(Sept.) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Owner Reviews, Ratings, Comments and Criticism
If you're looking for a sequel to the author's famous 1998 memoir PLANET OF THE BLIND, this isn't it, no matter how they try to market it as such, and indeed called it a "memoir" in its subtitle is pretty misleading according to the Fair Packaging Act. PLANET OF THE BLIND has everything, an intense, nearly unbelievable story of growing up nearly blind and yet trying to pretend to be sighted, and underneath it all it was a story of being mainstreamed and constantly told that everything would be all right and that if you only tried harder you'd be just like any other boy. The journey was all in discovering that no, what society was telling you was just not true and that you needed help all your life. Help you never got. Lessons in braille and a guide dog more like.
Eventually young Kuusisto began living a productive life, freed from his twin demons of obesity and anorexia, and became recognized internationally as a master of disability studies and as a poet. As a poet, he's not one of my favorites, but he's certainly well known in the field and has the respect of many. The present book is sort of a gallimaufry, a compilation of different essays about all different things, and it would be an understatement to say it lacks the focus of PLANET OF THE BLIND. In fact it doesn't have much narrative drive at all. Mostly we hear about different trips Steve has taken, to different places all over the world, and also we hear about his experiences listening to music. You'd think that after all the discussion of compensation in POTB, that being blind might make a person more sensitive to music, but EAVESDROPPING proves that this is not necessarily the case.
As a commonplace book, however, EAVESDROPPING works besutifully, for Kuusisto has a knack for remembering and quoting many of the wisest and funniest sayings he has heard over the years. "Hearing poetry starts the psychological mechanism of prayer," he avers, quoting from Theodore Roethke and whether or not you believe Roethke's formulation it's nice to hear the sentiment put so succinctly. At times the book descends into a laundry list of memorable shows he went to: "a Frank Zappa concert in Montreal in the dead of winter; my favorite reggae band, Toots and the Maytals, in New York; Carnbegie Hall for the tenor Jose Carreras; Placido Domingo at the Metropolitan Opera; Bob Dylan on a rainy summer night outdoors; Vladimir Horovitz in Chicago . . ." I can't even type any more, it's too boring. But overall a beautiful book filled with memorable little apercus from one of our greatest writers.
