Annette Snyckers’ poems are as subtle and intimately telling as the differences between the three languages in which she writes and battles to live and dream. These verses touch and tug at one another like the Afrikaans of her childhood, the German of her husband and the South African English of her homeland. They agree to differ in all sorts of nuanced ways.
Kleur kom nooit alleen nie [Colour never comes alone], wrote Antjie Krog. Annette Snyckers powerfully reminds us that neither do languages, landscapes, countries, continents and their people.
In a series of jewel-like images, poems like paintings, Annette Snyckers evokes the real and imagined journeys of a lifetime. Beautifully conceptualised and crafted, the poems in Remnants, Restante, Reste are easy to read and yet deep. When the end comes (too soon) we don’t want to part company with the poet.
Annette Snyckers’ poetry attests to the rich inner world of a woman who has scraped her sensitivity against reality from a young age and has found escape and safety in all the wild places of the world, of language and of art. Her poems, in three languages, leave the reader feeling calm and vicariously nourished. Remnants Restante Reste is a whisper of solace in a mad, bad world.
In her first volume of poetry, Remnants Restante Reste, Annette Snyckers answers this call with steely restraint in three languages, both affirming and radically questioning her place in the family of things and all the conflicting things of family.