A review by paul_viaf
Satan Says by Sharon Olds

4.0

A piece with varying tones but one main theme, the female form. The complex arrangements of femininity. From the outset the language is most clever though the mindscape from which it echoes is a wasteland. It lay in ruins, almost barren, except for the atrocities germinating, littering the terrifying place. I do not know the authors background though she writes as if traumatized. A dysfunction between her & her parents often resurfaces throughout. It seems passed on as though through the pangs of breast milk. Though at times quite solemn, it is a wonderful premier. It packs great depth. The poet pulls no punches. Some poems are blood stained & some are as subtle as the residue of warfare smoke. It houses a diabolical sensuality which is not for the faint at heart. It is an unblinking nudity which dares the voyeur to a game of chicken, & she is an uncompromising opponent. At first glance who does not appreciate a good nude, but can you bare to see every grotesque imperfection once put under a microscope. For what she describes lends the piece to a fearlessness impacted by a coarse life which has stolen away any fiber of apprehensiveness. She describes in great detail the sensual intricacies of being a woman. Immersed in her organs, I am baptized in menstrual blood. It is very raw & intimate interaction. It is an invitation to witness the exorcism of demons under a Bacchic spell. A chronicling of the various stages of womanhood through the eyes of a wounded being which greets with the combination of self-inflicted wounds, & perhaps, damning injuries only by which the proximity & intimacy of family can incur. She disrobes bearing the unflinching nudity, she then sheds this flesh, revealing her organs including the reproductive ones. She extrapolates those as if to give wings to a burden which is both blessing & curse. She strips herself of the totality of this anatomy to reveal a quivering soul with the multidimensional diadem of a psyche with all the complexity & cloudiness of such an adornment. As she rids herself of these layers she douses the reader in her flesh, in her organs, in her burdens, curses, confessions, hysterical cackles & melancholy notes. It is sewn to me & I view this world as both a victim & a victor. It is a wash to whom the spoils reside with. It is a wonderful intimacy shared. It is a costume for which I am blessed to have dawned. It is a view I will always feel blessed to cherish.