In recent years Stefan Hertmans has acquired an international reputation for his fiction. War and Turpentine, a memoir of his grandfather's experiences in the First World War, was one of the New York Times's ten best books of 2016, while The Ascent (De Opgang) sheds an abrasive, troublesome light on the historical tradition in Flanders of collaboration with Fascism. Before he began to write fiction and autofiction, however, he already had a very high profile as a poet. Hertmans' output has been prolific, and it was as a poet that I first made his acquaintance in 2013, when I was asked to translate two of his poems for an annual Lowlands Yearbook. I was struck by the airy lightness of his work: "A child summons you to these hours, / imagine trickling water, / centuries without people. / Be still as ancient stones." This was a poetry that was both layered and transparent. I saw it as a challenge for a translator and deserving of an international readership.With its insistent musicality, Hertmans' poetry lodges itself in the reader's memory. It also engages in a political and social discussion, which means that, while remaining highly concentrated work, it is anything but hermetic. Its relevance to current world issues, in combination with an almost traditional lyricism, makes him a unique figure in the Flemish scene. Perhaps the notion of 'metamorphosis' is a key to his work: each of his poems seems like a living creature, undergoing a transformation from start to finish.
