Over the course of six years, Autumn Richardson has written a singularly powerful poetic sequence of great bravery and beauty, dealing as it does with the elemental questions of existence: hunger, nourishment, necessity, sacrifice. Here, within the wilderness landscapes of alpine mountains, boreal forests and limestone plateaus, where the commonplace comforts are absent, there is only the warmth of a carefully tended fire, ‘a spark beneath vastness’, and all thoughts turn to the incredible brightness of even the smallest, most seemingly insignificant life.
‘It is as if Autumn Richardson has learned the secret incantations of ancient and elemental things.’ (Mark Valentine)
‘These are beautiful, immanent poems, her grammar candle-soft in each line. A very beautiful sign.’ (David Tibet)
‘Her work combines intimately personal sensory perceptions with the experience of vast ranges of geological time and space, the crossing from human identity to a trans-human world-identity.’ (John Steffler)
In each spare line, as lean as the coyote that visits her in the night, the weight of each word is carefully considered, and the question asked – as in all meaningful journeys – shall I bring this with me? Can I afford to carry it? And so this is a sequence of sheddings – of old skins, personas, thoughts – a stripping down to the elemental, so that transformations can arise. An Almost-Gone Radiance is a vital statement of personal and esoteric philosophy for those looking for the all-but-vanished traces of wisdom, burning on the fires of our civilisation’s ruins.