I Think We’re Alone Now

by Abigail Parry

I Think We’re Alone Now is a bold and far-ranging second collection from a fresh and original new voice in British poetry. This was supposed to be a book about what it might look like in solitude, in partnership, and in terms of collective responsibility. Instead, the poems are preoccupied with pop music, etymology, surveillance equipment and cervical examination, church architecture and beetles. Just about anything, in fact, except what intimacy is or looks like. So this is a book that runs on failure, and also a book about of language to do what we want, of connection to be meaningful or mutual, and of the analytic approach to say anything useful about what we are to one another. Here are abrupt estrangements and errors of translation, frustrations and ellipses, failed investigations. And beetles. Abigail Parry's first collection, Jinx (Bloodaxe Books, 2018), was shortlisted for the Forward Prize for Best First Collection 2018 and the Seamus Heaney Centre First Collection Poetry Prize 2019.

Genres: Poetry

87 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2023

Reviews

[Dawn · Rating 4 out of 5]

the final sequence of poems in this collection spoke a lot of apertures, and that is what I feel this collection was full of: little gaps in language where the light shone through. I loved the subtle rhythms & tucked-away corners of rhyme and wordplay that don’t make themselves too obvious, but are everywhere when you look for them.

favourite poems — ‘Whatever happened to Rosemarie?’, ‘It is the lark that sings so out of tune’, ‘The true story of your own death’, ‘Some remarks on the General Theory of Relativity’, ‘The Squint: X’

[Lily · Rating 3 out of 5]

What an ambitious collection from Abigail Parry. There was a little bit of unevenness, but I really enjoyed the breadth of this one, and I definitely want to revisit it again in the future, especially in a different headspace.

[Tôpher Mills · Rating 5 out of 5]

How can you be in a loving relationship and yet be alone? This is just one of the complicated situations explored in this vibrant humdinger of a book. Whatever Abigail Parry’s bizarre and unique poetry delves into it shows us a coruscating insight conveyed with fizzing linguistics. This book is delightfully difficult in reference and range, with an emotional depth that can leave you bereft and entranced about modern life. Beetles, ghosts, a speculum, English-speaking learners, the general theory of relativity and larks that sing out of tune are just some of the endeavours encountered here in this haphazardly wilful and awesome book.

[Nancy · Rating 1 out of 5]

Shortlisted for T.S. Eliot Prize 2023