shard

Author: Judith Roitman

Publisher: Chax (2025)

There are no wholes in Judith Roitman’s shard, only sharp edges of things. Pieces and parts have taken over the body’s prison, no soul in sight. In lieu of a lyric voice, we have “obedient teeth.” It’s a workbench, scattered with engine parts, but the mechanic is absent. So, it’s a diagnosis of our shattered time. But remember that Roitman is a Zen teacher, for whom “the self” is no better, or more subjective, than “a shelf.” She’s a Buddhist who echoes Roland Barthes: “He is saying that you don’t have to try to erase control or erase the self; according to him, nothing an individual writes is in fact written by an individual.” We are not voices, but teeth. Bite hard into this book. It clenches. — Susan M. Schultz