...de la Telegraph:
Robert Crawford is agog at technology. He writes haiku about emails without making you think he's being anachronistic: "In that otherworld/ Where we met when we emailed/ There is no other."...
...But Crawford has had some catching up to do, even since his last collection, The Tip of My Tongue, which appeared in 2003. The internet haunts him, and in his latest book, Full Volume, there are signs of fear. A poem that patches together imagined scraps from chatrooms has a sinister edge to it: "I'm really lonely I miss China/I've a secret tattoo/ Next year I'll be sixteen Want to chat with me?"...
...He translates the work of Renaissance Scottish poets from their original Latin into a Scots-inflected English, showing that the Scots have always managed to take a universal language and make it their own. Some of these feel like fillers, but the best ones allow Crawford to set sail on language adventures. Some renditions from Gaelic, too, do their best to restore patterned internal rhymes and routine alliteration to Crawford's language....
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