The poems in Book of the Edge are not overtly political. Some are not political at all. Those that make political statements do so in an understated, allegorical way. Temelkuran’s goal in these poems is to explore the human condition, exposing our weaknesses and our potential. But her insight into, and interpretation of, this human condition are undoubtedly inspired, at least in part, by her socially-involved upbringing and her many years of work as a journalist.

The book is, to use Baudelaire’s words, an invitation to a voyage. The speaker asks the reader to become an explorer, to leave the city and embark upon a journey of self-discovery. Although each poem stands alone, the poems work together to describe this quest; they turn into a modern, poetic fable, in which speaker, explorer, and reader merge into one. “You may not know it yet,” says the speaker in the prologue, a wink at what is to come. “You are just like me.”

The book contains six sections: we begin in the doorway, where the explorer must prepare to leave her hum-drum, comfortable life and embark.1 The first place she arrives is a meadow, where various animals display their virtues, and in so doing, teach her different aspects of what it is to be truly human. The bull, for instance, refuses to use his physical power over his attackers, for he knows that “To the truly powerful, / power is more hateful than weakness.” The squirrel is elated, simply at the mystery and joy of being alive.

The journey proceeds in the air and water. The explorer has begun to lose her mistaken sense of identity, to discover her true self. When she falls from the sky into a river, she encounters a fish, which shows her the meaning of understanding, for the fish “lives in understanding’s widest, most intrinsic vein.” As all rivers do, this river flows into the sea. Here, the explorer begins to grow, to incorporate into her being the entities she has encountered along the way. The speaker notices, “I swelled, swelled, swelled in the seawater / Engraving the names of a thousand and one blurred creatures in my mind.” Soon after that, she arrives at the city gates.

“The City” is the fifth, and perhaps most disturbing, section of the book. With a newfound understanding of the natural world—and thus, of the truly human world—the explorer sees city life for what it really is: cruel, merciless, and predatory. City dwellers are voracious jaguars; the newcomer to the city is, in their eyes, nothing but savory flesh to be consumed. The explorer is urged to leave the city as quickly as possible. It is, perhaps, in this section that Temelkuran’s work in journalism, particularly in the fields of politics and human rights, comes through most clearly: the crowds in the city, all-powerful, “have no mercy,” they don’t think twice about preying on the weak.