Haeck's intensity is such that he needs to use the fragment to complete an on-going project of finding his way to luminosity. Behind a deliberate modesty, the output is voluminous. Never boastful, Haeck introduces his prose as notes, poem-essay, poem, life-poem, life-novel, as if what he wrote did not merit adjectives such ‘completed' or ‘final'. He has invented a genre that was missing in Canada. The verse has prolonged itself into a regular paragraph. Fiction reads like a telecast, and reality made to look like conscientious invention. The writer is not an outsider; he is one of the many who just happens to jot down notes to try to come up with some sort of understanding. He is writing, and the reader looks at the writer writing. This participatory element in this literary project is translucent and incandescent.
Written entirely in the second person—the pronoun you—and in the present tense, Philippe Haeck’s book offers a cathartic experience to readers drawn deeper and deeper as they flip from one page to another. The chapters, numbered, succinct, and fragmentary, can be read in any order. From his very first publications, Haeck has offered us a remarkable ars poetica. Tell Me What Moves You is no exception: these notes are dedicated to the act of writing, as he humbly reminds us.- La Revue du loisir littéraire
An email has been sent out with instructions for resetting your password.