Follow Me

Pauza dintre vene / The Break between the Veins, Cartea Românească (Polirom) Publishing House, Bucharest, 2007 (with audio-book).


“I think the ‘break between the veins’ is an open metaphor that can get you in many directions, likethe ectopic poems, linking both to the emotional and the materials side of our worlds. I was thinking: our lives passes through our veins, but what passes in-between the veins? How does it feel to be placed in-between your own veins and look at the world from there? So I have tried to somehow explore in this book all this ‘beyond life’ residue beyond the veins. “

“In my heart, this book is like a very loud song, hummed by a frightened child, who’s lost in the woods.”

(Miruna Vlada)


References about the book:

“Miruna Vlada practices a crude poetry, in the sense of time’s cruelty, not rawness, revealing anguishes in the form of metaphysics’ twisted images transposed in the organism’s biology. Every state of mind turns any mechanism of human physiology into a wound. This method of transposing feelings in the physical world makes her poems intelligible amid story-telling and poetry.”

(Mihai Vieru in “Familia”)

“All the eroticism of Miruna Vlada’s poetry is connected, it is metaphysically intertwined, a bit harder, more frustrating and not necessarily found in common things as it was for the pioneers of metaphysical poetry, but if it is to be found in obvious, everyday things, these are showcased in terms of metaphysics and from then on, the reader only feels the need of reality. The images of this unfulfilled eroticism – of romantic-metaphysical origin – are shockingly beautiful”.

(Mihai Vieru in “Tomis”)

“Without forgetting its habits from Poemextrauterine, Miruna Vlada, in its second poetry book, The break between veins, places herself diplomatically and equidistantly between the two extremes. The anguish, the turpitude and the ubiquitous evil [[fin du siecle]] are built within a decadent, histrionic and almost theatrical eroticism. Without excluding each other. In Poemextrauterine, Miruna Vlada approached the canons of apothegmatic and implosive poetry, openly speaking about everyday apocalypses. In The pause between veins, the tone is sweetened, moderated, and maturally balanced. The sexual reflections, «the literary orgasm>>, the exposure of a dilated and polluted ego, the simulation of anti-childhood, the plethoric discourse and the turgescent syntax, the indecisive oscillation between prosaic and imponderable, the fascination and ostentation of fragility, irradiated by an authenticist prestidigitation, turn into a clear polymorphism: Miruna Vlada’s avatars are continuums of sensory simultaneity – repulsion and exuberance, voluptuousness and infamy–, however, «the ectopicity» of poetry is rejected, the disease is integrated, pathology is now an assumed gesture, entirely assimilated”.

“Self-aware of the soteriological potency of the confessional act, Miruna Vlada extracts the friable accents from the textual architecture and converts them into points of tension. Oxymoronic, she coagulates the raw sensation and the coherent, self-reflexive writing. The connecting (and catalytic) role of the texts from “The pause between the veins” belongs to the theme: the imaginary of “The pause” pivots around a male figure, ethereal and timeless, the fertile presence-absence, which is begged for ubiquitousness, possession and autarchy. Miruna Vlada’s book is an erotic outlet, quantified by the possible existence of the other. Marked by the same perpetual syncope/hesitation (pause), the reflection/ image of the woman is deformation and mystification – it only gains substance in reference to the other, while the autoscopy equates to depersonalization and autoflagellation. However, there is the unstoppable invasion of anguish, hypnotising and overdosed, because the poetry of Miruna Vlada is built on the consubstantiality of extremes, like a Möbius band, the same ones and always others: love does not coagulate, it rips to recompose, death itself destroys, evens and pulsates in objects and living beings, the gesture breaks halfway or vegetates in its intention; it’s a world of screaming, be it insolent, voluptuous, insurgent or terrified.”

(Rita Chirian in “Cultura”)

Read poems from the book