Blueberries

<b><i>‘I mean who cares about opinions, gossip, whatever, when bodies are so vulnerable, in search only of love and breath.’</i></b><br /><br />The body frequently escapes her, but is always very much present in these compellingly vivid, clear-eyed essays on an embodied self in flight through the world, from the brilliant young writer Ellena Savage.<br /><br />In Portuguese police stations and Portland college campuses, in suburban Melbourne libraries and wintry Berlin apartments, Savage shows bodies in pain and in love, bodies at work and at rest.<br /><br />She circles back to scenes of crimes or near-crimes, to lovers or near-lovers, to turn over the stones, re-read the paperwork, check the deeds, approach from another angle altogether. These essays traverse cities and spaces, bodies and histories, moving through forms and modes to find a closer kind of truth.<i>Blueberries</i>is ripe with acid, promise, and sweetness.