"In a shimmering phenomenology of body, spirit, and soul, The Right Hand resides at the tender junction of nerve and bone, “a nexus: metropolitan.” In her radiant collection, Christina Pugh’s astute eye illuminates Maya Lin’s lovely river of pins, St. Teresa of Avila with an angel, and wonders such as a “sea of porphyry.” A mystical cartography of the senses, Pugh’s earthbound threshold of the human resonates with our longing for God and the eternal, mapping a basil leaf juxtaposed to a basilica, displaying “the flash of a neural jewel,” or glowing with “this notion / of change carved in marble / unfettering the seam / between watcher / and creator.”"
— Karen An-hwei Lee, author of The Beautiful Immunity
"I had thought the mystery of the body and the mystery of faith were different mysteries, and then I read Christina Pugh’s The Right Hand, and learned I’d been thinking wrong. I want to say that this book is two books stitched together by an intelligence of remarkable sensitivity, but it isn’t true. Rather, the two long poems of which the whole is comprised—"Into the Skin" and "L’Incontro: The Meeting"—act as stereoscope, bringing the body’s pain and the soul’s ecstasy into their overlapping dimensionality which makes them, finally, real. Skin pierced is the primary principle: the poet’s experience with acupuncture to remedy chronic pain, St. Teresa of Avila (as depicted by Bernini and her own words), pierced by the spear of the angel. In lines needle-sharp, Pugh works toward the radical passivity that might be poetry’s highest achievement—that to the pain one is in, some hand unbidden comes, and relieves it. Call that inspiration or call it intervention, call it Muse or call it medicine, the result is the same: the shattered nerve stitches together again into the possibility of beauty, and these are beautiful poems, true to both body and soul."
— Dan Beachy-Quick, author of Variations on Dawn and Dusk