Dennis E. Bolen’s Black Liquor continues his exploration of modern disconnection and the disparate paths taken by those railing against the austere landscape of their lives.

Imbued with lyrical evocations of lost childhood, mature love and deep friendship contrasted against brutal depictions of grueling labour, industrial mishap, historical misfortune and often hilarious disappointment, Black Liquor progresses to an appreciation of being alive, against the odds. Bolen writes in the pacey cadences of contemporary speech, tough and tender. His quirky use of metaphorical story charged with biting imagery makes these deeply autobiographical poems an exhilaration.

As in his previous writings, five novels and two collections of short fiction—among them Stupid Crimes (originally published by Anvil Press), Stand in Hell (Random House), Kaspoit! (Anvil Press), and Anticipated Results (Arsenal Pulp Press)—this new book explores the varieties of disaffection, this time in poetry and this time as remembrance of things past.

Dennis E. Bolen is a novelist, editor, teacher and journalist, first published in 1975 (Canadian Fiction Magazine). He holds a BA in Creative Writing from the University of Victoria (1977) and an MFA (Writing) from the University of British Columbia (1989), and taught Introductory Creative Writing at UBC from 1995 to 1997.

In 1989 Mr. Bolen helped establish the international literary journal subTerrain, and served there as fiction editor for ten years. He has acted as a community editorial board member at the Vancouver Sun and sat on the boards of a literacy advocacy organization, a literary collective and a theatre company. He has written criticism, social commentary, arts advocacy and editorial opinion for numerous journals and newspapers in Canada.

Dennis E. Bolen's profile page

From rough justice on the Island to the piss-stained ugliness of dissolute Lower Mainland life, Black Liquor nicely skewers the gentle hypocrisies of postwar, Pacific Northwest optimism. Bolen’s verse sucks the marrow of postmodern disillusionment with tenderness and irony–but without nostalgia

Daniel Gawthrop, The Georgia Straight