Winner of the 2023 APR/Honickman First Book Prize and selected by judge Dana Levin, Public Abstract is an intricate debut that examines illness and recovery, addiction and loss. Winner of the 2023 APR/Honickman First Book Prize, Jane Huffman’s intricate debut collection, Public Abstract, examines illness and recovery, loss and the ripples of influence an addict has on their family circle, and vice versa. We watch as a private mind, devoted to its privacy, is laid out on the page and abstracted to become a public revelation. Building an aesthetic of compressed interiority, the speaker’s tension is clear—“From one lung, I tell the truth. / From the other lung, I lie.” Through intimate and meticulous poems, Public Abstract explores the operations of form, sewn together, and the failings of form, ripped apart. Crumbling under its own weight and folderol, form becomes an act of invention and in Huffman’s expert hands, revision becomes a genre.
Something I’m obsessed with is her inquiry on opposites especially within the body and the way opposites inform each other/make each other whole. Now I am thinking about my body/everyone’s body through many mirrors/which is which. Rhythm of this writing is very fun and in many poems feels like music and then something is thrown off or meanders in a way that feels both disruptive and almost logical. Yay
A fantastic collection, full of imagination and restraint (truly both can be credited to the inventive form play. I admire the many ways the poems close (whether their endings or across lines and stanzas) and allow for opportunities to open back up, reach, and be in conversation with each other around the body, inherited traits, and lineage.
I will link to a thorough review when it publishes, but Huffman's book is a triumph of sound, language and exploration of the self. It's an achievement that deserved its award.
I received an advance review copy of Public Abstract and will link to my full review when it publishes. TL;DR: A truly ambitious first book of poems that I admire.
Jane Huffman's debut poetry collection, Public Abstract, works to create a fragmented portrait of her life with disability and her brother's drug addiction. While I enjoyed the later third of the collection, I did not find the first half's intentional obfuscation purposeful. It felt like someone obviously trying to avoid a topic and the amount of play she was including felt more distracting than vulnerable or meaningful to the later portions of the collection. I think what would have been more grounding as a reader was to change the order of the collection—the sequencing felt like putting the cart before the horse. I wanted to see and understand the Huffman that was described in the introduction of the book. Instead, it was a collection that was trying to hide in plain sight. I wanted the work to openly accept its potential and what it could become.
This was a phenomenal read. I had a hard time putting it down (so I didn't). I'm looking forward to reading it again, learning something new, each time.
This book is fascinating and reminds me of Emily Dickinson. Like I’m diving into the inner thoughts of one of this centuries great thinkers and poets! So innovative and formally fresh.