Sam Levy

            William Lessard’s poetry collection, /face, has a singular focal point—precisely that, the face—a deceptively simple concept but one which he takes and breaks apart, like a mirror breaking into so many shards, each piece presenting a different reflection on what a face really is. This meditation brings to the surface contemplations on everything from modern-day technology involving the face to the power a facial expression holds, even a mere raised eyebrow. The deeper potentialities and meanings of the face, some so unexpected and novel, eventually click in the reader’s mind, communicating another seemingly simple concept but one that is anything but: There is so much information written on people’s faces.

            Flipping through the pages of /face, one might mistake the book for some sort of procedural booklet or instructional brochure. The text’s layout, formatting, and graphics lend themselves to this effect. There are tables and diagrams, and some of the content is laid out in an expositional fashion, such as when technical definitions and explanations are given. All of these elements work in correspondence with the actual text, providing a framework for the author to get his points across. One is made to think of things like artificial intelligence, language-learning models, social media, and other digital features of the modern age. These features are surely an important part of the work, as they are explored in tandem with the face, but they are only one angle from which the subject is considered. Lessard’s work goes far beyond commentary on today’s world, penetrating to the essence of the face, a fundamental human feature with much more meaning, effect, and power than one would think.

              Lessard’s meditation on the face goes in many directions. The face as a false promise, as a tool thrust forward for use, as a house of features, each of which can influence the moment. Overwhelmingly present in the collection is the theme of exploitation, the many ways the face can be used, especially with the aid of today’s technology. For instance, facial recognition technology is referenced, identified as a tool that easily collects and analyzes facial features and expressions. The face becomes a digital artifact, able to be measured in framerates. All of this data is garnered for the purposes of giving someone or something else information and power. The face is viewed here as something to be utilized in a technical sense, raising questions about whether such technological capability is beneficial or detrimental or merely inevitable and who is reaping the benefits of it.

            In line with the commentary on technology is a consideration of almost the reverse notion. At once machines are using faces to gather data about people while at the same time, technology itself—an abstract, anonymous thing—is being given a face by humans. Robots are made to look humanoid, machine intelligences are given human voices. Artificial intelligence is assigned features of human identity so as to make humans more comfortable and to allow them to better understand something so faceless. In one instance, Lessard uses the term “pareidolia” to showcase, not just the human tendency to see faces, but rather to assign faces where they do not exist. Making a brilliant analogy, one line states: “Pareidolia is a comfortable recursion. Much like how God / took the face of Jesus so he could be ‘seen.’”

            Another angle of this theme is self-exploitation. The face is viewed as a product, something to be commodified. Lessard, for instance, uses the social media format of the “Subject Comment” to showcase the face as being the only thing of value: “As the ‘World’s / Youngest Skin Influencer,’ she can see at 11 a face / already failed.” Another biting line states: “Call the girl you once were and tell her the face you painted over hers is peeling.” In this quote, the face is art to be sold and a façade meant to fool.

            Taking a different perspective on the power of the face, Lessard uses much of his collection to investigate the personal, deeper, most human meaning to be found there. Even a glance holds so much potential: “Their gaze cuts the belly of the moment. Eyes stapled to plate. / Each second peeled for its meat.” Also considered is the role lines on the face play in enabling humans to acknowledge aging and imperfection, each individual line capable of demarcating one’s history. The information is there, written all over the face. Deeper still, what can be found under the skin are whole worlds of information: “A burning city floats beneath the face. Blaze lit by memory.”

            The poetry of /face reaches so widely and deeply, is so contemplative, and takes so many paths in the conveyance of its ideas. The collection’s remarkable ability to reveal the vastness of implications tied to this fundamentally human feature makes the reader think about the essence of not just the face but also of the human capacity for making meaning itself.