George Perreault’s Curved Like an Eye is an entrancing collection of works that explore personal loss and the resolution of love. It is a hard, distinct poetry in which the author prods the dark impulse of humanity and its own ache for renewal—its Spring when, as with the Ruminari, all possessions are burnt ceremoniously—leaving the spirit “clean, naked.” Perreault searches his own memory, his own yearnings, and finds not meaning or understanding, but brilliant and often haunting fragments of images tied to half-recollections of passions and vague motives. If at times he finds himself “clean, naked,” it is without denying the likelihood of soon falling back into familiar patterns. But it is this recognition of the oscillations of life’s familiar patterns where the transformation of the poet’s vision begins. The hard, often hostile particulars and people of his Western landscape shine forth brilliantly.
Perreault, George, "Curved Like An Eye" (1988). Ahsahta Press. 43.