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hannahbrostrom 's review for:
Calling a Wolf a Wolf
by Kaveh Akbar
There's no way to sum up everything this book is. There just isn't.
This book doesn't feel quite like a book. The second you pick it up you can feel that extra sort of weight on it, despite its relative thinness. Collections like this are different from others in that there really isn't a beginning or an end–but there's an everlastingness to it. You never finish reading it, really. You read a poem, you process it, and your mind whirs in a million different ways, trying to make sense of it. The beautiful thing is, that no matter how you think of it, it manages to make sense. Akbar's writing is infinitely versatile.
In technical terms, too, this book is magnificent. It manages darkness without overdramatizing. It makes poetic things that at once seemed impossible to beautify, it takes pain and writes it in the way every poet wishes they could. It's a close to flawless collection, really.
My only criticism is that many of the poems seem like rewrites of each other. As a complete entity, this book is magnificently unique, but within itself Akbar often repeats themes and metaphors. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but to me, it cheapened the sharpness of it all.
This book doesn't feel quite like a book. The second you pick it up you can feel that extra sort of weight on it, despite its relative thinness. Collections like this are different from others in that there really isn't a beginning or an end–but there's an everlastingness to it. You never finish reading it, really. You read a poem, you process it, and your mind whirs in a million different ways, trying to make sense of it. The beautiful thing is, that no matter how you think of it, it manages to make sense. Akbar's writing is infinitely versatile.
In technical terms, too, this book is magnificent. It manages darkness without overdramatizing. It makes poetic things that at once seemed impossible to beautify, it takes pain and writes it in the way every poet wishes they could. It's a close to flawless collection, really.
My only criticism is that many of the poems seem like rewrites of each other. As a complete entity, this book is magnificently unique, but within itself Akbar often repeats themes and metaphors. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but to me, it cheapened the sharpness of it all.