There is so much youthful enthusiasm in every woman’s pinky. In the thick of it all, there will always be a longstanding attraction here in our shape and form. Use us sparingly before we become less-honest indecent less-sacrificial. So many stories about women in houses women out of houses women in and out of love, we should open a shop and fill it with Kleenex and booze. In “The Thick of the Real World,”Umansky dazzles and tickles with her razor tongued wit: Umansky offers an important message in our history of feminist writing as she interrogates a woman’s constant grappling between the self and the pressure of a successful romantic union. The book suggests that a woman of this sort will always pull through, and her self will evolve through transcendence. By the end of the collection, the most pleasurable aspects of the speaker shine from her wit and rebelliousness. However, this book still offers plenty to admire, both in its construction and its message. For example, in the examples above, I read the lines as “I am done being nothing, done being empty.” Umansky uses this tactic so many times, though, that it begins to lose its luster. When I first read the blanks, I enjoyed them I considered them as literal blanks. For example, Umansky often uses blanks in her poems, such as in “Self::History:” Additionally, Umansky makes the same moves in several poems, and the repetition, while clearly outlining an obsession, can get tiresome or appear like a gimmick after a few too many uses. The only weaknesses in these poems result from theoretical musings that feel intangible or abstract. The repetition here is layered with accusation and uncertainty, but it’s clear that the speaker has no choice: she must find a way out of the destruction, and that way out comes through language. In fact, the speaker seems desperate to do so: Also, the continual link of the self to language suggests that the process of writing and speaking about the failed marriage helps to salvage the self. When Umansky succeeds at this musical association, each line carries new implications: they stack one burden on top of another burden, so that each sound carries heavier emotional weight. For example, in “The Roaring:”Īnother fine example of this tactic also comes from “Into the Margin:” And often the poems move solely through sound association. The poems repeatedly reference the self in terms of punctuation, margins, and definitions. In fact, in many of the poems, a common theme surfaces: language exists as consistently bound to the self. In addition to her experimental form, Umansky also excels at a rare sort of language play and music. Here, the poem moves somewhat associatively, and the form is breaks and scatters across the page, but the meaning is not abstract the grief is clear, as is the wisdom gained from the experience. Prostituting the fact that people can turn. However, in many places, this risk pays off large rewards, as the form mirrors the broken pieces of the relationship and the disjointed thought process of the speaker after trauma. She crafts most of the poems experimentally with heavily fragmented associative movements. Umansky takes formal risks in this collection as well. These moments delight, because they take risks and carry such heavy truths. In these lines, the speaker triumphs in discovering what it means to rebuild the self after a shattered relationship, and the end result seems to be a sense of deep self reflection and endurance. History always repeats itself, but the heart, How we make ourselves isn’t coincidental it’s consequential.Ī nd also these from “How We Make Ourselves:” Consider these lines from “The Marital Space: “ But in all forms Umansky seems concerned with discovery, and many of them feel like epiphanies. The poems fluctuate back and forth in form, from prose poems to fragmented associative poems, to poems that have experimental layouts on the page. The book’s most lucid moments seem like a deep, philosophical quest. The voice crying out from this wrecked romantic union seethes with bitterness, wit, defiance, and courage the female speaker also remains dominant throughout the text, uncovering truths and barking orders at her lost lover: Even while many women writers have paved the way for Umansky’s collection about a broken marriage, Umansky manages to blaze her own trail, with a voice that harkens back to feminist literary icons of the past while simultaneously creating something new. In fact, the title of this collection is taken from The Letters of Virginia Woolf. On the back cover of Leah Umansky’s first book, Domestic Uncertainties, Cornelius Eady refers to her as the literary daughter of Emily Dickinson.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |