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greyxwaren's review
5.0
Inspired by the thematic ache of loss and subsisting grief in the traditional Romanian tale The Story of the Swan Maiden and the King, Swan Wife by Sara Moore Wagner approaches a poignant and visceral lingering nostalgia, one that is both familiar and alien all at once. In reading this collection, I found myself becoming someone else just as I found myself recovering my own fragments of memory scattered between the lines. Skilled in word and rhythm both, this collection entices and excites as it refuses to shy away from even the darkest corners, made bright by autumn sunlight.
From the very first, these poems tread a wild sacrilege, incredibly healing for someone who was raised in the rural Midwest and finds the language of cornfields and gravel roads and Christ’s crucifixion reclaimed in an eerie and familiar song. Feminine violence, growing pains, and a very specific brand of religious trauma haunt these halls, as Wagner writes herself into a new mythology even as she resurrects the old in apt fragments and lyrical cadences alike.
There is, too, a glorious, guttural rawness to the relationships that move between these lines — an adoration, a kinship, and a hatred simultaneously. No one is spared in this tirade: divinities, the narrator, and everyone they encounter. Into the landscape of nature and the nature of still lives, Wagner weaves a lyrical consideration of sanctity and self that, though a gentle lull at times, speaks starkly to its essence and its reader all at once.
Here, the simple is ethereal and the ethereal has fallen to earth. Wagner draws a narrative across the expanse of time, between wronged women and a more modern, helpless domesticity that skews dark and unsettling. The experiences that define these poems also define a contemporary existence as women in a long line of hurting women and delve into the sheer simplistic experience of living.
Thematically, this collection is equally well-suited to the nature of itself as well. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m very picky about the “woman as animal” trend in modern poetry and am equally picky about contemporary works related to fairytale and folklore retellings or reimaginings. I’ll also be the first to admit that this collection had me heavily reconsidering both preconceived notions of what either trope could really be when given full freedom to revel in not only its own inherent wildness, but also in its freedom to move away from the theme provided it returns when the sun rises, so to speak. Wagner has clear talent in weaving a subtle narrative; one that gripped me by the throat and held me until its conclusion.
If it hasn’t yet been clear, I adored this work, both because it felt so relevant to me personally and because Wagner has such a way with words and themes alike. This is most definitely a collection for fans of Corvid Queen, and for fans of Mary Oliver and Anne Sexton. I’m grateful for the chance to review this lovely collection, and hope some of our readers will enjoy it as much as I did!
From the very first, these poems tread a wild sacrilege, incredibly healing for someone who was raised in the rural Midwest and finds the language of cornfields and gravel roads and Christ’s crucifixion reclaimed in an eerie and familiar song. Feminine violence, growing pains, and a very specific brand of religious trauma haunt these halls, as Wagner writes herself into a new mythology even as she resurrects the old in apt fragments and lyrical cadences alike.
There is, too, a glorious, guttural rawness to the relationships that move between these lines — an adoration, a kinship, and a hatred simultaneously. No one is spared in this tirade: divinities, the narrator, and everyone they encounter. Into the landscape of nature and the nature of still lives, Wagner weaves a lyrical consideration of sanctity and self that, though a gentle lull at times, speaks starkly to its essence and its reader all at once.
Here, the simple is ethereal and the ethereal has fallen to earth. Wagner draws a narrative across the expanse of time, between wronged women and a more modern, helpless domesticity that skews dark and unsettling. The experiences that define these poems also define a contemporary existence as women in a long line of hurting women and delve into the sheer simplistic experience of living.
Thematically, this collection is equally well-suited to the nature of itself as well. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m very picky about the “woman as animal” trend in modern poetry and am equally picky about contemporary works related to fairytale and folklore retellings or reimaginings. I’ll also be the first to admit that this collection had me heavily reconsidering both preconceived notions of what either trope could really be when given full freedom to revel in not only its own inherent wildness, but also in its freedom to move away from the theme provided it returns when the sun rises, so to speak. Wagner has clear talent in weaving a subtle narrative; one that gripped me by the throat and held me until its conclusion.
If it hasn’t yet been clear, I adored this work, both because it felt so relevant to me personally and because Wagner has such a way with words and themes alike. This is most definitely a collection for fans of Corvid Queen, and for fans of Mary Oliver and Anne Sexton. I’m grateful for the chance to review this lovely collection, and hope some of our readers will enjoy it as much as I did!