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Lindsay Tuggle Lindsay Tuggle i(A117799 works by)
Born: Established:
United States of America (USA),
Gender: Female
Arrived in Australia: ca. 2002
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Lindsay Tuggle was awarded her PhD from the University of Sydney in 2010, for a dissertation on nineteenth-century American poetry.

In 2015, her poem 'asylum, pageantry,' was highly commended in the Gwen Harwood Poetry Prize. Her work has been published by Contrapasso, HEAT, Mascara, and Rabbit, among others. In 2014, selections from 'An Elementary Treatise on Human Anatomy' were shortlisted for the Queensland Writers Festival's Val Vallis Award for Poetry and longlisted for the University of Canberra Vice-Chancellor's Poetry Prize. In 2009, 'Anamnesis' won second prize in the Val Vallis Award.

In addition to poems published in journals (indexed here), she has also been commissioned to contribute a number of works to projects for the Red Room Company in Sydney, including Dust Poems (2009), to which she contributed 'Calenture'; Papercuts (2010), to which she contributed 'The Elephant's Nostalgia'; and Unlocked (2010), to which she contributed 'The Northern Road'.

In 2015, she was working on a collection of elegies titled Calenture.

Most Referenced Works

Personal Awards

Awards for Works

y separately published work icon Calenture Melbourne : Cordite Press , 2018 12914102 2018 selected work poetry

'The first time I heard the word, I saw her diving. From the cliffs of Kuttawa, her long arc into the lake they flooded a town to create. A fever so verdant it calls you by name. The water was vaguely green-edged that summer. Some algal bloom, which never hindered my sister. I never jumped. Not then. Years later, the fever came for me, blind in her wake. It called me by her name.

'Poe said 'the death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.' I don't want it to be true, but here we are. Every elegy needs an author. And then, an autopsy.

'In the decade after she died, my poetry became diagnostic, archaic, hysteric, mesmeric. This book is ossuary to a constellation of deaths, some sudden, all strange. It is also a catalogue of medical and mercurial oddities, curiosities that call forth the exquisite corpse hard at work beneath our living flesh. The echolalic duet between what is lost and what is left behind. The phantom limb. The wandering womb. The book bound in skin. The face that ghosts itself. The fever dream that ends in drowning. The writhing grace of speaking in tongues. The Holy Ghost, that only permissible husband in the unkempt dance of our girlhood. Home: our pale host to long winters and shared delusions, borne of boredom and endless grooming. The countless ways in which we coaxed our bodies into clothes and, later, coffins.

'This is what I know, now. It is never banal to watch someone unfurl.

Come in, won't you? The grass is fine.'

Source: Author's blurb.

2019 shortlisted ASAL Awards Mary Gilmore Award for a First Book of Poetry
2018 commended Anne Elder Award
Last amended 2 Aug 2018 16:08:53
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