Sarah Goldstein
Sarah Goldstein was born in Toronto and currently resides in western Massachusetts. Her first book, Fables, was published in 2011 by Tarpaulin Sky Press. In 2016 she contributed to Nothing to Declare: a Guide to the Flash Sequence, from White Pine Press. She is developing a second book, tentatively titled The Great Plains. Sarah’s visual art has been shown in the United States and Canada. She recently collaborated with artist Sam Jury and composer Rob Godman on a short film, Popehelm.
Sarah Goldstein
Sarah Goldstein was born in Toronto and currently resides in western Massachusetts. Her first book, Fables, was published in 2011 by Tarpaulin Sky Press. In 2016 she contributed to Nothing to Declare: a Guide to the Flash Sequence, from White Pine Press. She is developing a second book, tentatively titled The Great Plains. Sarah’s visual art has been shown in the United States and Canada. She recently collaborated with artist Sam Jury and composer Rob Godman on a short film, Popehelm.
Fables
by Sarah Goldstein
Fiction. 92 pages. Paperback. 2011
Departing from the Brothers Grimm to approach our own economically and socially fractured present, Sarah Goldstein’s Fablesconstructs a world defined by small betrayals, transformations, and brutality amid its animal and human inhabitants. We hear the fragment-voices of ghosts and foxes, captors and captives, stable boys and schoolgirls in the woods and fields and cities of these tales. Anxious townsfolk abandon their orphan children to the nightingales in the forest, a bear deploys a tragic maneuver to avoid his hunters, and a disordered economy results in new kinds of retirements and relocations. Goldstein weaves together familiar and contemporary allegories creating a series of vibrant, and vital, tales for our time.
Fables
by Sarah Goldstein
Fiction. 92 pages. Paperback. 2011
Departing from the Brothers Grimm to approach our own economically and socially fractured present, Sarah Goldstein’s Fablesconstructs a world defined by small betrayals, transformations, and brutality amid its animal and human inhabitants. We hear the fragment-voices of ghosts and foxes, captors and captives, stable boys and schoolgirls in the woods and fields and cities of these tales. Anxious townsfolk abandon their orphan children to the nightingales in the forest, a bear deploys a tragic maneuver to avoid his hunters, and a disordered economy results in new kinds of retirements and relocations. Goldstein weaves together familiar and contemporary allegories creating a series of vibrant, and vital, tales for our time.
In the meadow of fairy tale, Goldstein unrolls ribbons of story that fly gamely and snap with brilliance. Truly worth gazing at. (Deb Olin Unferth) Goldstein’s vision and approach is wholly new. Her work in this collection is more than translation and transcription: Fables contains poems that whisper tradition but fully stand on their own. (Nick Ripatrazone, The Iowa Review) Horrifying and humbling in their imaginative precision, the stories of Sarah Goldstein’s collection, Fables, awaken the tension between human and nonhuman in these haunting vignettes. . . . Entering Goldstein’s Fables is good fodder for dreams and the conscience, but be sure not to leave this one laying out for the kids. (Nick Sturm, The Rumpus) A gorgeous intertwining of allegorical stories presented in tiny fragments, dare I say breadcrumbs!, that display a horrifying yet beautiful world where mayors keep bones in boxes and ghosts enter through the beaks of birds. (Brian Oliu, Specter Magazine) Goldstein lightly treads up and down the spectrum of delightfully playful to hopelessly grim via vivacious and unsettling possibilities. . . . An important glimpse into contemporary literature, which blends a new subtle style with both nature and the relatable subversive. For fans of Brothers Grimm, Angela Carter, and César Aira. (Hey Small Press!) Sarah Goldstein’s fables make me happy, and they’ll make you happy too. They’re delightfully unnerving: small animals fare poorly; we’re bounced to what feel like the settings of the tales of the Brothers Grimm—huntsmen and witches wander the landscapes, a magic needle runs away, a finch mends lace—and then, wonderfully, there’s talk of retirement accounts and urban decay and the sad tale of a dude crushed under his truck whilst fixing its axle. And ghosts! And my favorite: the captives. One captor tells his captive, “you ought to put that voice of yours in a pillow.” Thank goodness Sarah Goldstein put her voice into Fables. Honestly, I’ve never read a debut this stunning. (Josh Russell)
In the meadow of fairy tale, Goldstein unrolls ribbons of story that fly gamely and snap with brilliance. Truly worth gazing at. (Deb Olin Unferth) Goldstein’s vision and approach is wholly new. Her work in this collection is more than translation and transcription: Fables contains poems that whisper tradition but fully stand on their own. (Nick Ripatrazone, The Iowa Review) Horrifying and humbling in their imaginative precision, the stories of Sarah Goldstein’s collection, Fables, awaken the tension between human and nonhuman in these haunting vignettes. . . . Entering Goldstein’s Fables is good fodder for dreams and the conscience, but be sure not to leave this one laying out for the kids. (Nick Sturm, The Rumpus) A gorgeous intertwining of allegorical stories presented in tiny fragments, dare I say breadcrumbs!, that display a horrifying yet beautiful world where mayors keep bones in boxes and ghosts enter through the beaks of birds. (Brian Oliu, Specter Magazine) Goldstein lightly treads up and down the spectrum of delightfully playful to hopelessly grim via vivacious and unsettling possibilities. . . . An important glimpse into contemporary literature, which blends a new subtle style with both nature and the relatable subversive. For fans of Brothers Grimm, Angela Carter, and César Aira. (Hey Small Press!) Sarah Goldstein’s fables make me happy, and they’ll make you happy too. They’re delightfully unnerving: small animals fare poorly; we’re bounced to what feel like the settings of the tales of the Brothers Grimm—huntsmen and witches wander the landscapes, a magic needle runs away, a finch mends lace—and then, wonderfully, there’s talk of retirement accounts and urban decay and the sad tale of a dude crushed under his truck whilst fixing its axle. And ghosts! And my favorite: the captives. One captor tells his captive, “you ought to put that voice of yours in a pillow.” Thank goodness Sarah Goldstein put her voice into Fables. Honestly, I’ve never read a debut this stunning. (Josh Russell)