A most useful and delighting book, Rochelle Ratner’s Leads does not presume its conclusions to be known. Any meaning is found only in the process of discovery the writing quickly becomes. What begins as a journey in search of connections with her long deceased grandmother grows into a spirited investigation of the experience previous generations of her family underwent as members of the Jewish immigrant population from Eastern Europe headed West in the closing decades of the nineteenth century. It’s a pleasure to have this record of Ratner’s exploration of a side of her family’s past she has never before examined. She immerses herself in a personal journey that gradually extends beyond her own concerns. Thankfully, she resists self-indulgence, not providing a mere linear self-narrative, but rather letting the words of others and the historical record stand with unimpeded clarity.

Following the form of a personal journal and constructed using a collage-like technique, Ratner’s text combines transcriptions of conversations with relatives prior to making a visit to Leeds with various conversations she has once there, along with a scattering of historical records and family photographs. Part detective story, part poetic memoir, this is a very active bit of reading. There’s glorious confusion as oral accounts conflict with each other and/or historical record: “That’s a lovely myth, but it couldn’t have been in Leeds” (“Mr. Rubin”).

While there may be very few surprises by way of poetic rhapsody, these pages hold glimmers of insight presented as clear and direct as possible with minimal meddling by the poet. This is as honest an offering of testimony as it gets. On the back of her book, Ratner names Charles Olson and Paul Metcalf as precursors, I would include Charles Reznikoff, as in his Testimony, the words of others are continually encouraged to shine throughout. Finally, with her transcriptions of conversations and dead ends all mapped out, Ratner arrives where she began, where we all begin: the point where revelation is possible if we take the time to be interested. “You’ve had an effect on me. I was driving through Mays Landing the other day and I suddenly thought to stop at the old cemetery there and visit my grandfather’s grave. I haven’t been there in years” (“Herman Ratner”).