In House Made of Silver, Robinson uses spare, elegant language to explore spiritual themes in a manner evocative of the compressed intensity of Emily Dickinson. Within the architecture of daily domestic scenes, a complex world is revealed to the reader. As with “condensation on that vessel that was not a glass” or “maps sewn with leaves,” Robinson sculpts intricate and interior spaces.
The delicacy of these poems replicates the quality of their insights—insights too shattering and celestial to be uttered any other way. These are swift, verdidical, winged images of the side beside the other side. —Fanny Howe