A vivid chronicle of friendship and loneliness amid the precarity of life in late capitalism, when every day is a fight for survival. In poems bursting with narrative power, Disease of Kings explores the tender yet volatile friendship between two young scammers living off the fat of society. Here are stories of an odd couple who scrounge, con, hustle, and steal, alternately proud of their ability to fabricate a life at the margins and ashamed of their own laziness and greed. Rich with a specificity of voices, these poems locate themselves in a midwestern city at once gritty with reality and achingly anonymous. Here, the central speaker and his best―only―friend, North, come together and apart, nursing a sense of freedom that is fraught with codependence and isolation. With plainspoken language and tremendous tonal range, Anders Carlson-Wee leads us into the heart of one friendship’s uneasy domesticity―a purgatory where, in this poet’s vision, it is possible for loss to give way to hope, lack to fulfillment, shame to gratitude.
Anders Carlson-Wee is the author of DISEASE OF KINGS (W.W. Norton, 2023), THE LOW PASSIONS (W.W. Norton, 2019), a New York Public Library Book Group Selection, and DYNAMITE (Bull City Press, 2015), winner of the Frost Place Chapbook Prize.
In poems bursting with narrative power, DISEASE OF KINGS chronicles the tender yet volatile friendship between two young scammers living off the fat of society. Here are stories of an odd couple who scrounges, cons, hustles, and steals, nursing a sense of freedom that is fraught with codependence and isolation. With plainspoken language and tremendous tonal range, Anders Carlson-Wee leads us into the heart of their uneasy domesticity—a purgatory where, in this poet’s vision, it is possible for loss to give way to hope, lack to fulfillment, shame to gratitude.
[rating = A] One of my: Best Books of the Year (for 2023)
Poetry is such a personal thing. I'm picky with what passes through my hands, and what I pass along to others. Lucky enough to receive an advanced copy, I set out to read these poems outdoors. Going to my secret section of a nearby park (where the flowers are plentiful and lean over the streambed and where the dragonflies dance flashing green), I read the whole collection, enthralled.
People are often put off "Poetry" when it's that aggrandized, capitalized version, where dead white dudes loiter and rhyme way too much (stop!). However, Carlson-Wee is much more beatnik in his approach; he's got the tongue of the common people and he uses it well (after all, he's lived through hitchhiking across the country). The poems are narrative poems, too; they tell a story. The story is about two friends living on the fringes of society, just getting by each day, eating out of dumpsters and looting what they can to then sell at a going-away yard sale. Except, they don't go away.
As with his last collection, Carlson-Wee talked about the everyday person who might not be noticed, who might be looked down upon. The every so inventive way these characters live their lives is fascinating. I only wish there had been more. He's not quite like any other poet I've read (Mary Oliver, Louise Gluck, Sean Hewitt, Octavio Paz, William Carlos Williams, etc.), but he has an ease about him that my favorites usually possess.
He doesn't try to impress with fancy alliteration or strands of clever phrasing. He allows the natural flow of language to take its course; he, the poet, delicately guides it, helping it along. As I sat in my creek reading, I thought of how I changed the flow of the water by shifting the sands, creating deeper pools, and opening new avenues.
By writing about the struggles that many people face (that are not always given the shine, sheen, and luster of "Poetry"), he illuminates something rare and pure. Friendship, sorrow, survival, penury, human resourcefulness, and so many other aspects of humanity seep from these poems. It is a generous peek into another way of life, and, hopefully, it makes us do a doubletake when we're walking down a stretch of street.
Anders Carlson-Wee’s Disease of Kings is a book you finish then immediately want to start reading again. From the opening poem it grabbed me by the back of the holey fall windbreaker I was wearing and hauled me through.
The premise: Two buddies in middle America are living off the largess of thrown-away food they scrounge out of dumpsters and furniture left on the side of the road when others are evicted. (Or were they the ones evicted, when the B&B they ran for a while—featuring gourmet [if previously discarded] food—imploded?)
A book with this sort of premise can’t be fun. But it is. There are lots of surprising twists and turns. At the same time, beneath the surface amusement park ride is a serious, deep meditation on themes ranging from ecology to economics.
What are people for? seems to me the deep theme of Disease of Kings. Are most of us here as the base of a pyramid that crushes us, while the few at the top skim the cream off our curdled selves? Shouldn’t people matter more than property and money? What does it say about us that our values are frankly so f***ed?
Anders Carlson-Wee doesn’t offer any answers (unless I missed ‘em), but he does offer one helluva ride. Enjoy it.
I'm going to borrow some commets from the back of this fine collection of poems. Here goes!
Luis Alberto Urrea writes, "Anders Carlson-Wee travels in and out of utter-noir midnight to lightning-dawn hues with such aplomb his poems seem effortless."
Patrick Phillips writes, " 'Disease of Kings' is a harrowing dive into late empire America with its underworld of scroungers and squirrelers, dumpster-chefs and honest thieves, who have turned their backs on the gluttony of the Anthropocene. Again and again these beautiful poems 'sing what we can't say' and dare to imagine a new life fashioned from the wreckage of this one."
I encourage you to read this one. It's interesting, humorous, and doesn't try to say too much in one poem.
God this book? It broke my heart and comforted me at the same time. I'm speechless. Poetry is my heart and soul and the Disease of Kings brought me to an American Purgatory of capitalism, shame, desperation, and longing. I highly- HIGHLY recommend this book. I wish I could say more about it and I would but...the style? The way Carlson-Wee writes? it's unforgettable. Its nasty, morbid, uncanny and so anatomically beautiful all at the same time. You have to read it to understand. 7/5 stars, honestly, I could read this so many times and get sick and satisfied by it at the same time.
I fell in love with the way that this book breaks hearts and sows a story.
Making good use of his personal experience living a life counter to the broader culture of capitalism, committed to simplicity and seeing the plight, dignity, joy, and sorrow of the least among us, Carlson-Wee makes poems that reveal a neglected part of our culture.
A strong collection of narrative poems that carry a special music!
Reading a lot of poetry has made me picky, and it's not often I find a poetry collection I can't put down. This is one I had to stop my life for until I finished it.
This didn't really feel like poetry to me, except in the YA verse-novel sense. Linguistically simple and straightforward, narrative. It's more a string of short vignettes or interconnected flash fiction pieces vaguely illustrating a mysterious form of asceticism and perhaps some unrequited love.
The two main characters lead a scrounging yet unfettered life of dumpster diving and extreme frugality. We never learn why these two pursue such a minimal, detached lifestyle, but there are vague clues along the way -- deadbeat and/or disappointed parents, drug abuse, disgust at society's material grasping, an angry teenage us-vs-them sentiment.
However, the more powerful sections are the narrator's attachment to his friend, his partner in not-quite-crime, and how disappointed and alone he feels when the friend decides to re-engage with the world and pursue the traditional comforts of employment.