Reviews of Luxe
From Katherine Angel’s review in Poetry Review:
Key takes seriously that which often gets dismissed as the frilly froth of femininity. She gives plenitude to what is cast as fragile, forgettable, contemptible. There’s gravity, moreover, to taking the world of fragile things seriously: glass, dust, and ornaments conjure evanescence and decay as much as frivolity or joy. Key is a poet refusing to dismiss the seriousness, fullness, and depths of surface, glamour, glitz.
From Jemma L King’s review in Poetry Wales:
I’ve underlined so many lines in this book with utter enthusiasm I’ve nearly torn pages through…Part of Key’s immense likeability arises from her fallibility. Sometimes this takes the form of the anti-love poem, the broken-hearted poem, but often, she laces such moments of human-weakness with humour…This book, essentially, ticks all the boxes for me. It’s experimental, imaginative and romantic and there are even references to Smiths’ songs. Key’s is indeed, ‘all texture’ and I’d urge poetry lovers to invest in this one.
From Stephen Whitaker’s review in The Warwick Review:
Key’s chocolate shop of locators is a place where cocktails are flippant and jacuzzis audacious, where windows “rattle discontent” (‘Interiorana’) and pipes crack their knuckles (‘Fox’s Eye’)…The hidden truths between words, or the truths of emotional inquest alternately concealed and revealed in that reflective space, seem to be Key’s modus, and she finds a paradoxical poetics of unity where a sense of self struggles to be affirmed…This poet of the amniotic, of wide-eyed submarine colour, is coming up for air, and her emergence yields corrective balance.
From Clare Pollard’s review in Poetry London:
This is a swoony sort of book, full of longing and lusciousness.
Dai George writes in the Boston Review:
More than most poetry collections, Luxe takes to heart the advice of its epigraph, anaperçu lifted from Preface 1 by Chelsey Minnis: “Poetry should be ‘uh huh’ like. . . ‘baby has to have it. . .’” This is poetry impatient with the vague, well-mannered pleasures of the average modern poem. Most at home with American influences, particularly Minnis and Brenda Shaughnessy, Key’s work knows its own pleasure points and wants to hit them as often as possible. Sometimes the pleasure will be a queasy and synaesthetic one, shadowed by the dark, transitory thrill of erotic love. But at other times, the poems sing of the purer, enduring pleasures to be had in platonic friendship.
Judi Sutherland reviews Luxe and Letters to the Sky by Camellia Stafford on Dr Fulminaire’s Irregular Features:
Key and Stafford present us with two uniquely feminine poetic voices. Their work is beautiful and stunningly original…The poems capture something brittle, flashy, a beautiful feu d’artifice, a Belle Époque theatrical performance.
Mark Burnhope reviews Luxe for Elsewhere – a review of contemporary poetry:
[That’s] Key’s power; the ability to paint a nuanced, controlled self-portrait (or gallery of self-portraits) using the materials of her psychological, social and physical environments.
Reviews of Best Friends Forever
Fiona Moore reviews Best Friends Forever on Sabotage Reviews:
Here we find passion, the circus, celebrity emulation, shared rites of passage, domestic interiors, heartbreak, escape and much else. There’s refreshingly little irony but plenty of love, excitement, sadness or disillusionment for any reader to empathise with, not to mention all the nearly-shared experience. As Amy Key says in her heartfelt introduction, the “magic force” of empathy is at the heart of the best friendships.
Penelope Price reviews Best Friends Forever on For Books’ Sake:
What Amy Key and The Emma Press have done is to shine a light on a vital and sustaining part of women’s lives, and an often undocumented one. This anthology would make a great gift to a good friend, but it is also a valuable aid in considering the importance of one’s own friendships, past and present.
Reviews of Instead of Stars
Julia Bird reviews Instead of Stars in Poetry London:
Poems that might be called unashamedly beautiful, if it made sense to think that beauty was something to be ashamed of.