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sarahglen 's review for:
Jane: A Murder
by Maggie Nelson
Even though I couldn't get into Argonauts, this and Bluets have made me want to read everything Nelson has written. Few others could tell such a sad story of loss in such a deeply intimate, relatable way. Some favorite lines:
"Her youth an aura like a
new haircut—just blatant,
raw, crushing. A headband
keeps her brown hair back;
her lips are parted slightly.
How she wants. How she
penetrates, her eyes set back
in her brow like my mother's,
like their father's: dark
obedient, devouring."
"Tomorrow: holds France, perhaps.
Pittsburgh, of course.
Loneliness, so what."
"The whole photo
is dreamy, as if washed
in milk, Jane's skin
a pale apricot and
glowing. And I love it,
this lush, fuzzy sliver
in which two people
once spread out
on damp sand
and loved one another."
"They knew how to mourn
with dignity,
my mother says.
It's the Calvinist way.
As if keening on your knees
were somehow obscene
As if there were a control
so marvelous
you could teach it
to eat pain."
"The skull
may flatten
the metal, but
the metal
will win. It
wedges in-
to the seat of
thought, uses
the pink tissue
as its envelope.
Two bullets:
one in front,
one in back
quickly speak.
They tell the heart
No more beats.
"The world is ours, but we walk in it
noticed."
"Her youth an aura like a
new haircut—just blatant,
raw, crushing. A headband
keeps her brown hair back;
her lips are parted slightly.
How she wants. How she
penetrates, her eyes set back
in her brow like my mother's,
like their father's: dark
obedient, devouring."
"Tomorrow: holds France, perhaps.
Pittsburgh, of course.
Loneliness, so what."
"The whole photo
is dreamy, as if washed
in milk, Jane's skin
a pale apricot and
glowing. And I love it,
this lush, fuzzy sliver
in which two people
once spread out
on damp sand
and loved one another."
"They knew how to mourn
with dignity,
my mother says.
It's the Calvinist way.
As if keening on your knees
were somehow obscene
As if there were a control
so marvelous
you could teach it
to eat pain."
"The skull
may flatten
the metal, but
the metal
will win. It
wedges in-
to the seat of
thought, uses
the pink tissue
as its envelope.
Two bullets:
one in front,
one in back
quickly speak.
They tell the heart
No more beats.
"The world is ours, but we walk in it
noticed."