Select Press & Interviews




Tales of Dionysus in Cambridge Elements: Creative Classical Translation

“As he prepares his translation for the Dionysiaca project (see Sections 1 and 4), the poet Mike Lala views the ‘Marble sarcophagus with the Triumph of Dionysos and the Seasons’, sculptor unknown, in Gallery 162 (containing Greek and Roman objects) of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, the city ‘in which I live, in the country to which I was born, and remain, a citizen’ (‘On Translating Nonnus’ 2022: 739). The sculpture presents ‘an unruly assembly’ – which is also what draws Lala

to the Dionysiaca’s Book 13, to public speech, and to poetry. And it is a fact of language across eras, the transhistorical ur-translative pull of words in excess of literal meaning that makes such a swarm possible. What else could draw these people together, to leave their homes, their families, their parents and lovers and children, their communities, and to form, ill-equipped, the regiments of fighters that would travel, mostly by foot, nearly four-thousand miles to invade a country that by any account but Zeus and Iris’ doubtful assertion that its people, in plainly racist terms, were unjust, had little to take from, or offer to, them? Nothing but language, that ancient technology our culture today has largely left in service to the image as it and we regress into a new dark age.

An empathetic conjoining of experiences across millennia is quickened by the classics; such paratextual recordings of the reading and translating mind continue with a contemplation of human society that both evolves and remains the same; yet these American Homers, or an Ajax retold for war veterans, and reconsiderations of gender through Helen or Hecuba, indicate a clear line to (geo)political or activist concerns.”







In the Gun Cabinet Feature - Entropy

In the Gun Cabinet Review - Boog City

"In a time when every week seems to bring more news of atrocity, there is something timely about Mike Lala’s In The Gun Cabinet (TAR) because there is a violence, a fundamental trauma and horror at the core of this chapbook of poems. Here the reader is confronted with a jagged, hemmed in space—a stage, a box, a black box, a theater—in which “the bodies you / inhabit through your life / stand up like guns inside the doors.” The speaker leads us through it, at times hollow and detached—“empty space, window / pane, small space, then screen”—but also processing memory, loss, even sexual trauma, becoming “Not violence (though it felt so) not thought / but something else, crushing / fear.” Especially gripping is the way that the intimate and the violent become so closely entwined; unsettling memories seem to haunt the text as the speaker recalls a “childhood where my father lifted me / to straddle the 30-millimeter, hydraulically driven, seven-barreled / Gatling cannon / on the nose of the plane he flew.” There is a circular narrative at play, a kind of performance as certain kinds of theater—the theater of war, the theater of loss—are exposed, laid bare. This jagged, arresting work asks us to consider “what parts of the story were you told” and “what parts of the story / did you take to be your own.” Lala’s debut full-length collection, Exit Theater, selected by Tyrone Williams as the winner of the 2016 Colorado Prize for Poetry, will be out later this year."

- Mark Gurarie