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tee_th 's review for:
Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head
by Warsan Shire
reflective
sad
slow-paced
"I’ll rewrite this whole life and this time there’ll be so much love,
you won't be able to see beyond it."
I think I expected this to be different. I came in thinking it would be a dive into an open wound, but what it is is a brush over well-worn memories. Like an old photograph, and the awareness that you are holding the photograph and not standing inside of it still. Like saying "Here: there was once a raging fire, and now I am sifting through fragments of the ashes." If this is a wish, it is an echo of an echo of a wish, remnants of a time when things stumbled over each other on their way through the door, and there was still the shining thought that a pebble in the right place could kick up something new. If this is a eulogy, it is of a thing that has long been dead, finally being laid to rest.
Shire writes concisely, her words a scalpel, steady and exact, sure of where to cut.
you won't be able to see beyond it."
I think I expected this to be different. I came in thinking it would be a dive into an open wound, but what it is is a brush over well-worn memories. Like an old photograph, and the awareness that you are holding the photograph and not standing inside of it still. Like saying "Here: there was once a raging fire, and now I am sifting through fragments of the ashes." If this is a wish, it is an echo of an echo of a wish, remnants of a time when things stumbled over each other on their way through the door, and there was still the shining thought that a pebble in the right place could kick up something new. If this is a eulogy, it is of a thing that has long been dead, finally being laid to rest.
Shire writes concisely, her words a scalpel, steady and exact, sure of where to cut.