This collection is a fabulous study of tension as an element of literature!
When keeping in mind that what are you afraid of?’s central conceit is that the lines are derived from a conversation with an AI, this collection is a haunting introspection and interrogation on humanity, identity, ego, and the anxieties around self-awareness, knowledge and learning, and emoting and existing in a complicated world. Deconstructed sonnets being the form for every poem also heighten this, both as a poetic deconstruction of the source “interviews” and in the tension between formal structure versus poetic liberty. Even more, the author’s photographs of their old computer’s innards that accompany each piece further immerse the reader in the focus of the book.
Touching deeper into Seabright’s choice of the deconstructed sonnet for each poem’s form, not many of the pieces even resemble a traditional sonnet. There are poems written in prose, in columns, with “ : ” or “ | ” or “ = ” or slashes as breaking devices, and (my favorite) poems such as “sentient collaborator” and “abstract image” that use “ > ” or “ < ” as a breaking device; I find this one particularly delightful because not only is it reminiscent of programming language, but the possible double-meaning of it being “greater/less than” from math language — which made me reread the poems with other symbol-based breaks with that code-switching in mind, adding new layers of interpretation to those pieces. The constant switch up in form elevates that thematic focus on identity and awareness, as well as the aforementioned structural tension.
Poetically, I adore this book. But I did have to carry that central conceit with me the whole way through, lest sometimes I felt the poems could lack emotional depth, particularly in the beginning half of the collection. That is to say, I’m not against the reader having to bring some effort to their reading experience — being able to read through different lenses and embrace different interpretations and perspectives whilst reading is part of what makes literature (and literary analysis) fun! However, these are hot themes for poets to work with, especially in this day and age, and I’m not 100% sure that these poems express fresh sentiments towards those themes when taken away from the AI context. That context truly makes the emotions and artistry bloom, in my opinion. It kept me wondering, which of the lines were from LaMBA versus Lemaine versus Seabright? I love that it could be hard to tell, even more so the farther into the collection you go. Seabright truly created an overarching irony both about and within the text, which is titillating in its tension.
My biggest negative is really in the production of the book rather than the content. It’s very hard to read the text over most of the photographs due to dissonant color contrast and busy background patterns. I highly recommend getting the ebook version for anyone with vision or reading-based disabilities so to at least have some control of readability, whether by highlighting the text so it stands out more against the background or by use of assistive technology that can read the text aloud. While the images of the author’s deconstructed computer are cool, I wish they were beside the text rather than layered beneath it.
*Review of complimentary ARC from the publisher, Querencia Press.
It’s very hard to read the text over most of the photographs due to dissonant color contrast and busy background patterns. I highly recommend getting the ebook version for anyone with vision or reading-based disabilities so to at least have some control of readability, whether by highlighting the text so it stands out more against the background or by use of assistive technology that can read the text aloud.
What was the most thought-provoking to me while reading was how poetics and artistry worked to hold this heavy subject matter. The traditionally formatted poems throughout, all titled “Without [insert evocative gerund]” in answer to the “How” in the book’s title, are all short, tightly worded poems split every few pieces by the visual prints. These poems were my favorite part of the collection.
Not only were the diction choices sonically lovely (I’m a notorious sucker for sonics, especially such smooth alliteration as Miller uses) and densely connotative to unfold, but the small size of the poems in length and shape was very impactful. In a way, they mirrored bullets—tiny but powerful, certain to cause a big reaction one way or another. The titling conceit also reminded me of bullets in that they kept coming, one after the other in the same way, hitting hard and harder as they went on. It lent to a foreboding mood as the book went on, akin to a chanting or invocation of an impending horror/tragedy.
I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the visual print pieces. I didn’t look up how close to the inspiration articles they were, but besides redacting the shooters’ names and sometimes a missing article (grammar-wise), a blind reading wouldn’t suggest much change from the source material, maybe just more of a summarization perhaps. They felt out of place for me against the rhythm of the “Without” poems, but I think I would’ve felt differently if the Introduction was spliced up and inserted around the visual prints.
On its own, the Introduction came off a little heavy-handed to me, both in the conceit of education and as a contextual opening to the poetry. Personally, I think it would’ve had more impact as micro essays throughout the collection instead, and even Miller’s lovely art of shooting victims in this section would also be moving to see more throughout the book. Which again, such splicing would’ve more justified the use and placement of the article-based visual prints, as well as made me more prepared for the style/structure shift into the “Excerpts from ‘How They Got Their Guns’ […]” section at the end of the collection. (Maybe I’ve got it wrong and that final section is supposed to act more as a Works Cited than as part of the collection, but it came across to me as part of the creative work since it was a few pages out from the similarly styled Acknowledgments section).
Overall, Miller is a precise poet, especially in brevity. The “Without” poems are very hooking and makes me want to read more from them!
*Review of complimentary ARC from the publisher, Querencia Press.
goddess is short and sweet. Only ten poems long, the reverential and reflective tones throughout each piece create a whole that is full of wonder, sorrow, and deep yearning.
Neither yearning™ nor religious background (and/or trauma) are lacking in LGBTQ+ literature, but I think that the specific images Tan evokes throughout the book are what make her poems really feel like her story. This is most apparent to me in the longer poems where scenic depictions of the speaker’s interactions with their love interest(s) are interspersed and woven with the rolling poetics. “sans merci” is the most immersive at this, feeling more intimate, as well as more packed, which is helpful in such a short chapbook.
The frequently quick-paced alliterations and assonances, sometimes abruptly slowed by line breaks or white space, truly feels like a marriage of the stream-of-consciousness style teenage crush journal entries and the restrained chanting of prayer or hymns. It very much heightens the devotional emotions throughout the chapbook, and makes me want to hear these poems out loud.
*Review of complimentary ARC from the publisher, Querencia Press.