Reviews

The Body's Question: Poems by Tracy K. Smith

spacestationtrustfund's review

4.0

"Self-Portrait as the Letter Y" is a great poem, and I recommend it. Here's my favourite bit:

You are pure appetite. I am pure
Appetite. You are a phantom
In that far-off city where daylight
Climbs cathedral walls, stone by stolen stone.
I am invisible here, like I like it.
The language you taught me rolls
From your mouth into mine
The way kids will pass smoke
Between them.

Tracy K. Smith is really good at adopting different voices within a single poem.

whoz_ophelia's review

emotional reflective medium-paced

3.75

I wanted so much for Tracy K. Smith's "The Body's Question" to be a five star read considering I'm obsessed with "Life On Mars." Smith explores the vestiges of colonization, war, family, loneliness, and heartbreak with an expert pen, but as brilliant and breathtaking as some of the imagery and language was, most of the poems just lacked the philosophical magic I've come to know and love. 

My favorite poems were "A Hunger Honed," "Night Letters," and "Night."

kenningjp's review

3.0

This collection contains some great lines and a scattering of good poems. But, I think Smith gets better with age. I prefer her newer books. That is not to say this isn't worth reading. In fact, this book should be read by lovers of her work and then work through her new stuff to see her maturing and changing. It's a remarkable poetic trajectory.

cdisbrow's review

3.0

sad n sexy!

earlgreybooks's review against another edition

3.0

I'm a big fan of Tracy K. Smith's work, but this is my least favourite of the three of I've read. I just didn't feel the same rush of emotion or inspiration from her words as I did with the previous two.

wandering_not_lost's review

3.0

I'd say this is 2.5 stars, partway between "it was OK" and "I liked it". Smith's word-smithing is great, but often I felt like I loved certain lines but that the entire poem lacked a coherent center. She'd lose me about halfway through, I'd reread a line and love it, then try to reread the whole poem and get lost in the same way again. Perhaps subsequent readings will help.

sshabein's review

5.0

This is me shoving the book into your hands.

(Full review at Glorified Love Letters")

viragohaus's review

4.0

So redolent of speech that it's too perfect for speaking. Is that one of poetry's definitions?

pyrrhicspondee's review

3.0

Meh . . . a couple good lines and images, but mostly Contemporary Poetry. Lots of poems that end with a single image (usually a capital-M Metaphor) trying to perfectly wrap things up by not appearing to be a definite ending. Sometimes they work, but mostly I just notice how she's trying. Maybe Duende is better.

coffeeandink's review

4.0

Not the flame, but what it promised,
Surrender. To be quenched of danger.
I torched toothpicks to watch them
Curl around themselves like living things,
Panicked and aglow. I would wake,
Sheets wrinked and damp, and rise
From that print of myself,
From that sleep-slack dummy self.
Make me light.

No one missed my shadow
Moving behind the house, so I led it
To the dry creek-bed and laid it down
Among thistledown, nettle,
Things that hate water as I hate
That weak, ash-dark self.
I stood above it,
A silent wicked thing that would not beg.
I crouched, and it curled before me.
I rose, and it stretched itself, toying.

And the brambles whispered.
And my hands in their mischief.

A spasm, a spark, a sweet murmuring flame
That swallowed the creek-bed and spread,
Mimicking water. A gorgeous traffic
Flickering with light, as God is light.
I led my shadow there and laid it down.
And my shadow rose and entered me.
And on the third day, it began to speak,
Naming me.