No one person could be this desired
Across the gulf, could contain in their veins
That quiet, or the nervous system of stones
And seasons with the same small time.

No thing could remain so finally other
Though the birds move between, the clouds
Pass over. Might have been Russia or even China
Might have been pack ice, floating, floating
    
                                  from 'Island'

Sasha Dugdale's poems explore the mysterious solitudes of individual lives with tender, unsparing lucidity. The book opens with a sequence written at the Pushkin family estate. The great Russian poet, setting out to St Petersburg, turns back when a hare runs in front of his horse: the superstitious act saves his life. Such chance or fated moments where paths cross are at the heart of the collection. A boy on a train, passing a gold chain through his fingers, sparks a buried childhood memory in a watching passenger; lovers reach out to touch in the dark; a dying soldier holds to the sight of house martins swooping over a pool. In fragmentary meetings, Dugdale finds a source hope and art.

From reviews of Notebook, Sasha Dugdale's first collection:

'...a beguiling and unusual debut, its best poems at once elusive, satisfying and likely to go on being read.'
                                               Sean O'Brien, Times Literary Supplement