“Poems that stick with you like a song that won’t stop repeating itself in your brain, poems whose cadences burrow into your bloodstream, orchestrating your breathing long before their sense attaches its hooks to your heart.” —Washington Post on Captivity
Toi Derricotte is the author of The Undertaker’s Daughter (University of Pittsburgh Press, 2011) and four earlier collections of poetry, including Tender, winner of the 1998 Paterson Poetry Prize. Her literary memoir, The Black Notebooks (W.W. Norton), received the 1998 Anisfield-Wolf Book Award for Non-Fiction and was a New York Times Notable Book of the Year. Her honors include, among many others, the 2012 Paterson Poetry Prize for Sustained Literary Achievement, the 2012 PEN/Voelcker Award for Poetry, the Lucille Medwick Memorial Award from the Poetry Society of America, two Pushcart Prizes and the Distinguished Pioneering of the Arts Award from the United Black Artists.
Derricotte is the co-founder of Cave Canem Foundation (with Cornelius Eady), Professor Emerita at the University of Pittsburgh and a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets.
interestingly enough, the poems that made me weep were the ones about the grieving of the fish, Telly. i connect when she writes, "Perhaps I should forgive / Telly for dying in my care," at the beginning of the poem, and at the end writes, "Say it wasn't my / fault you suffered, with your little / working gills, say you forgive me." sometimes i need to be reminded that the death of my child wasn't my fault. that i am forgiven. and maybe it's because the innocence of the fish and the idea that a fish is somehow a child-like pet, and that she loves the fish and she grieves when the fish dies.
coming back to this review actually because i got in the shower and couldn't stop thinking about this fish. it's not just a fish. the fish is joy. the fish is the child and joy. derricotte even says this when writing about counting the envelopes in the basement and she calls herself (as a child, doing this job) like the fish. it isn't just that the fish died. it's that she nurtured this fish, did everything in her power to make it comfortable and happy and taken care of. and still, the fish dies. and she has to grieve that death.
it's been a while since a poem lingered in my mind like this.
I didn't particularly like a few of the poems in here, especially the ones about Telly, the poet's fish which perhaps were intended it be a kind of release from the more serious poetry that precedes and follows them.
But there are very worthwhile poems in here, many of them written in prose, poems about suffering, about the misue of power, and about surviving. Here are a few examples.
"Many abused children never love again, never trust. Their hands pass it down to their children. The body holds memories: it will never be caught gain. Talk isn't enough. You can never comprehend. At some point something happens; a door closes, your boyfriend goes out of a smoke, and, in less than a second, your stomach tightens like a grill. Alarm bells ring in the amygdala: Daddy's home." (Page 86)
"How do you end a book? How do you end a lifelong obsession? Writing itself is a triumph; it changes the past by changing the act of repression. It cries out against violence. It confronts the command to subjugate oneself. When you have been silent, dead for so long, encased and buried, the oppressor's voice is the first one you hear. It is the way you speak to yourself. Then the most childish voice arises. It has to start from the same place it was buried." (Page 87)
"You don't just write a book, you live it. I know a book is finished when I've changed. The obsession lifts, it lets me go, a door to the outside world opens. Only the creation of a work of art can spring the trap; only the girl locked inside knows when the door slams open, when the power is enough." (Page 87)
* the poem is change the poem in change the end of the poem is change to change in the poem to change by the poem to hold the change in the poem to be changed by the poem (the poem is change) to change by writing the poem (the writing is change) to hold the change in the writing to hold the change by writing to breathe through the change to write through the change to breathe by writing to write by breathing to change by breathing the change is breathing to hold the breath to hold the writing to hold the change to hold it
Before pandemic, I taught this book to a group of Osher Lifelong learners at Carnegie Mellon University. The course was called “con” and the students thanked me particularly for having conned them 1 into reading poetry and 2 in reading the poetry of Toi Derricotte. Now some months later, my friend Nancy Bolden and i are teaching a course called “Do you see what I see”. This is our fifth class, and Toi will be joining section 2 in about 10 days. Meanwhile section 1 May have to make do with just the study leaders. Upon reading the book for the third time, I find it just gets better and better as does Toi, a neighbor of mine, She is too wonderful.
I had the privilege of hearing this talented poet read/sing her poetry last fall. This is a very good book, which I may have appreciated mor because I also have father issues...I especially love the last poem in the book, a poem about poetry.
Tough and tender poems about family violence and resistance and the choices we make and have. Autobiographical poetry; may be healing and may also be a trigger for those who have experienced domestic violence. Fine work, and looking forward to more.
"Is it possible to change everything that has happened by looking at the past in a different way? Not denying anything but, perhaps, inserting some detail that pries open the heart so that more light floods out of it?" - from "The undertaking"
3/5 i guess i’m kind of meh on this book. i picked it up randomly and enjoyed it somewhat but i do kindaaa agree with another reviewer: at certain points this book does resemble “stuff that seems more like memories jotted down for a therapist rather than poetry.” this book is definitely poetic at some points, but in some areas it’s lacking, and it is a little too thematic for me in its length, in general. or maybe the poems just weren’t strong enough to carry the theme. i dunno. it does also feel entirely memoir at some points.
poems & lines i liked
"Life is something you have to get used to what is normal in a house, the bottom line, what is taken for granted. I always had good food. Our house was clean. My mother was tired and sad most of the time. My mother spent most of her day cleaning."
"I had never seen my mother brave. I had never seen that she would fight to the death. It was a part of her she never showed. I had thought she didn't stop my father from beating me because she was afraid. I was confused by her braveness."
—Burial sites
"Many abused children never love again, never trust. Their hands pass it down to their children. The body holds memories; it will never be caught again. Talk isn't enough. You can never cimorehend. At some point something happens: a door closes, your boyfriend goes our for a smoke, and, in less than a second, your stomach tightens like a grill. Alarm bells ring in the amygdala: Daddy's home."
cw for this book: violence, lots of domestic/parental violence/abuse
seems to be categorized as poetry everywhere but it clearly reads as creative non-fiction memoir like larry sutton, jenny bouly, ander monson, etc. very excited to find another writer working in this form. love the interplay between the prose-looking section and the poem-looking sections--why even give things genres.
A wonderful book about the glory of knowing yourself, of overcoming, of rising and of the role poetry as an act plays in the process. The second and third parts of this book tore me to pieces. Viva Toi!