""Beauty is back, rejoice!" So ends The Paper Camera, Youmna Chlala's flickering catalog of Beirut and other cities, love and longing. Loss is interrupted by vignettes of intimacy. Family members make salad and go swimming. Lovers observe each other with a languorous curiosity. In one poem, the speaker observes her lover stepping up from a couch and writes: "When you walked away, / I imagined a being that had grown, too large from love." Charting the absence between unrecoverable points of origin and migrating bodies, The Paper Camera explores how the boundaries of a city map themselves on one's own tongue and intersperses French and Arabic with meditations on translation and memory. The Paper Camera is a multilingual, hybrid text that speaks to the porousness and fragility of a body at risk and in flux, yet deftly moving through the liminal spaces of home and language"--