Katie Peterson unfurls the quotidian fabric of our lives, patterned with the difficulties of language and this moment.
Confusion frames the human predicament. In Katie Peterson’s Fog and Smoke, confusion is, literally, our climate. Writing to and from the California landscape, Peterson sees fog and smoke as literal—one a habitual, natural weather event, the other an increasingly common aftereffect of the West’s drought-caused fires. But they are also metaphysical. Fog and smoke reflect the true conditions (and frustrations) of our ability to perceive and to connect. Peterson writes, “I’ve been speaking about it at a distance. / Now I want to talk about its thickness. / A person could get killed in here.”
The collection moves through three First, the poet follows her local fog’s cyclical journey of descent and dispersion. Second, in a sort of pastoral interlude, she travels widely, almost erratically, to the California desert, the greater world, and ancient history. Finally, she descends into the enclosed space of the household, and the increased confinement and intimacy of raising a child during the pandemic. Peterson unfolds the small moments that make up our lives and reveals the truths contained within them, and her poems capture the lyricism of our daily rhythms—the interruptions, dialogues, and epiphanies.
I had a more difficult time with this than I was expecting. I loved the content and there were so many lines that made me want to go sit down and write myself, but I struggled with some large areas of disconnect. Particularly at the beginning, which made the other areas stand out all the more for me. There were several times where I found myself thinking that much of this would work better as a prose poem as sometimes the line breaks got in the words’ way.
Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for the ARC
“Fog It never covered everything like a shroud. It was always suspended over like nineteenth-century women waiting for proposals.”
A collection of poems, “Fog and smoke” portrays the events of recent years through witty metaphors, as well as the human condition everybody endured during the pandemic and the destruction of nature around the world, specifically in California.
Divided into three parts, the collection dwells on the environmental crisis depicting the way the cities are being surrounded by the smoke caused by wildfires and how death became excruciatingly present throughout the pandemic. Another topic included in this book is relationships, which range from romantic to platonic, where the author enhances them to the eyes of the reader even if they are not considered meaningful.
Katie Peterson took the mundane feelings everyone experiences to twist them into beauty represented in a precise set of poems, her thoughts need to be in the heads of every person, no matter the age.
I’m grateful with NetGalley, the author and the publisher for the opportunity of letting me read this before its publication.
Thank you to my besties at Netgalley for an advanced copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
This one took me a little while to properly get into, but once i got into the flow of the writing, I did enjoy it.
The only thing I didn’t particularly like was that quite a few of the poems were overly long and as if a thesaurus had word-vomited all over the page. ‘The Teacher and The Student’ I know is inspired by part of a biography, but ‘Smoke’ and ‘Americans’ felt like short stories more than poetry.
Overall, I found the writing beautiful and I would happily eat up anything Katie Peterson writes - poetry or short stories, I want it all.
Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and Netgalley for the eBook. I wanted to connect with this collection desperately, but I didn't. It read more like prose with randomly broken up lines than poetry, and even when I connected with the subject matter at the core of the piece, I didn't particularly connect with the words themselves. It's unfortunate, as the collection's cover is beautiful and I love the title and was excited to dive into it, but alas.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for a copy of this collection to review.
Katie Peterson's Fog and Smoke is very much a collection of its time as it explores life within a pandemic and a climate crisis. No doubt its relevancy will remain as we navigate our lives in societies irrevocably changed by Covid-19 and in a world increasingly showing signs of abnormal and rapid climate change.
The first section, Fog, reflects upon the isolation felt during the pandemic and how this impacted us, often far deeper than we would care to admit. While the detachment and fragmentary nature of this poem deliberately mirrors how many of us felt, I found it difficult to connect with it as a result. But again, perhaps that is the very point, it just didn't read as well as Peterson's later poems in this collection because as Peterson then writes about parenthood, birth and death, and then crisis, the human at the centre of it all became palpably relatable.
In these later poems, Peterson's style is steeped in line-level brilliance, romantic narrative and this constant sense of time being far too fleeting. I felt the ache, the desire for everything to slow down, despite just coming out of a time where things came to a standstill. This juxtaposition is caught in Peterson's work, masterfully. And so, despite my difficulties with the opening part, I can appreciate Peterson's intentions and dedication to poetic craft.
Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for a free E-arc in exchange for my honest review. Fog & Smoke is a poetry collection from Katie Peterson broken into two sections. The whole collection explores wild fires, California climate, and the unpredictable nature of life. My favorite poems were: Stars, Days, Words: which explores a young girl's view of the world, The Fire Map: which talks about how the fire map downplays the fires and leaves then nameless, The Mother: which again explores childhood vs. Adulthood, and Americans: which explores the ways Americans process events, emotions, and dreams. Overall, I would recommend this collection.
I wish I was an expert on Affect Theory. Alas. I’m more like someone who follows @AffectTheory on Twitter and just tries to piece things together. The concept of it. The activity of it. The seeming presence that’s not really a presence, maybe a vibe, but explicitly not a vibe (according to theory I’ve read), and definitely not a tone. And if you’re like me thinking, um, can WTF be an affect, and knowing, yes, it likely can be, then you and me are in the same place regarding affect theory.
And yet, I will say with better-than-medium confidence that Katie Peterson’s Fog and Smoke is definitely a demonstration of affect theory on some level. At least if you think of a COVID lockdown as having an affect that everyone shared in. Or California wildfires. Or motherhood. Or womanhood. The containers of each and the sinuous relationship variables inside those containers take on. Like think of COVID, early on, when you would walk through a city wearing a mask, and you were grateful other people could be considerate. The isolation felt insidious and necessary. Which feels like affect laying itself over the entire culture. And it might be this is how I reveal my imperfect knowledge of this critical lens.
But it’s how the book’s opening poem, “Fog,” operates, blurring the line between cultural anxiety and personal reckoning, “an alphabet on top / of the one you knew, a redo,” that feels affect-ish. Because it’s not that Peterson is only thinking about COVID. It’s how she’s accounting for concerns. The concern of motherhood. The concern of wildfires. The metaphors that could provide some insight, but not an entirety of insight. In this way, it reminds me of Paul Otremba’s book, Levee, which folds local events into the general anxiety of the book. Like living through local events (in Otremba’s case, the flooding incidental to Hurricane Harvey) shape the personal aspect of concern, but also preserve the overwhelmingly intimate nature of the personal when it appears in poems.
For instance, in Peterson’s poem, “The Fire Map,” she assembles a complex analog connecting California’s fire maps with her own feelings of love—familial love, romantic love. In particular, the idea that her own romantic history could be registered on a map, but the love that feels most immediately relevant is what she experiences now. Which is like the map California maintains about its wildfires. Updated to show the current positions and containments of fires, and imperfectly reflecting where previous fires had been. The nature of this analogy, where cultural experience of a natural disaster meets personal reckoning with history, the influence of the general on Peterson’s perspective is how I think affect is particularly at play. Mainly in the way analogy in “The Fire Map” is not so hard-edged. It feels atmospheric. The cultural inflecting on the personal and the personal absorbing the cultural into a poetic understanding, and the poet’s light discursive feathering joining the two together.
“How did the philosopher who built the Church want us to talk about our hearts? The one who knew why Adam and Eve covered their genitals rather than their mouths, their mouths, which had done all the sinning– not out of any fear of God, but since they couldn’t face what they had done without talking about it.” (from The Teacher and the Student)
This collection is broken down into three sections. I found the first to be rather challenging. Though, upon a second read with context in mind, I was flooded with relief at my ability to understand it a bit better.
Many of the poems had a feeling of disjointedness that felt deliberate. I know this collection was heavily influenced by the pandemic as well as the wildfires. I feel that this feeling of disjointedness really reflects the position we were all in during those times, trying to reconcile what was going on in the world and how it was affecting us emotionally. For many of us, the prevailing emotions were of confusion and a separateness. The poet laid these out very well for the reader to feel. Although, I think there is something lost if these are read without an understanding of the world at the time.
In the more intimate poems, with words about love and family, I felt it was much easier to connect. There was ache and there was a familiarity that I loved. No emotion was singular, but felt multi-dimensional in the way it was delivered. It paints a picture of a woman who lives internally in so many ways and her interactions with the world around her.
My personal favorites, at the time of writing this review, are “The Teacher and the Student,” “The Walk to the Road, when Dinner was Over,” “The Country,” “The Supermoon,” “Second Family,” “The Alphabet, for Emily,” “The Web,” and “Americans.” I suppose that’s quite a few, but so many had lines that resonated with me so I couldn’t leave them out. Overall, I enjoyed the collection, though it was challenging and didn’t hit me on a personal level as much as some other poetry has.
Thank you to NetGalley, the author, and the publisher for giving me the opportunity to read and review an advanced digital copy of this collection.
“Fog and Smoke: Poems” by Katie Peterson is a collection of poetry that speaks to the jarring juxtapositions of our modern world: nature is both lovely and bleak, and it is both a nurturing home and an indifferent threat. In these poems, Peterson explores our current experience of nature in a modern, technological world that is threatened by the climate crisis, viruses, and societal disconnection. This is a collection that shows us vital small moments of connection between people, and between ourselves and nature, pondering our place on the planet. It speaks directly to Californians living with fire seasons, fog, Covid, and the uncertainty climate change brings to our lives. Through both fog and smoke, we lose and find ourselves.
Thank you to NetGalley, Katie Peterson, and Farrar, Straus and Giroux publishing for the advanced reader copy of Fog and Smoke.
This review will be short. I was never a fan of poetry, it just never resonated with me. I was hoping if I read more of it that I would start to enjoy it. After reading Fog and Smoke I still don’t enjoy poetry.
However, there were some poems that I actually read multiple times, and for someone who doesn’t like poetry, that’s pretty big praise.
I do think that poetry lovers would enjoy this book though and should totally look in to buying a copy or checking one out from their local library!
A collection of poems about the pandemic, climate change, motherhood, and survival.
from Fog: "It never covered everything like a shroud. / It was always suspended over / like nineteenth-century women waiting for proposals."
from The Walk to the Road, when Dinner was Over: "I trusted the poet who wrote, / death is harder for the dying, / though it hurts the living more."
from The Alphabet, for Emily: "You like anything with a problem. / A country could learn from this and love // itself more, with all its nicks and scratches. / I am afraid of giving you too much credit. // Truth's pressure on a mother / terrifies as much as a monster."
Fog and Smoke left me feeling underwhelmed. While Peterson's poetry is polished and well written it lacked a sense of theme and emotion. Certain gems shone throughout; the line "Trouble, such a beautiful word,\ I wish we could say it with abandon." grips the reader with emotion and longing.
Overall this is a miss for me but is a well written collection nonetheless.
My favorite poems are: "The Interior" and "The Walk To The Road, When Dinner Was Over."
Katie Peterson's poems remind me of Mary Oliver, but don't get a copy of this book expecting to hear Oliver's voice. Their writings are vastly different, they just seem to notice the same things, and mention them in their poetry. Of this book, David Orr writes " Poetry is always about what's being said and not said, but rarely are the two so expertly intertwined." This poet clearly sees the world around her, and skillfully shares her perceptions with the reader. Peterson teaches at the University of California, Davis. Nov, 2024
I love a good book of poetry to act as a recovery agent, or a few moments to sit and think with the prose I'm presented. I am so thankful to FSG, NetGalley, and Katie Peterson for granting me digital access to this book before it publishes on January 2, 2024. I know it's a long time away for this one, but don't sleep on this stoic collection of art that is sure to put you in your feels in all the best ways!
I must admit that this collection was very...mediocre. None of them really stuck with me and I read this over a week ago and have already almost completely forgotten it. I can usually remember at least one poem from each collection I read, but I look at this and I'm like, "Yeah, I did read that in an hour and I remember nothing." Oh, well. You win some poetry collections and you lose others. The cover is absolutely stunning, though.
A collection about the personal, social and environmental fragmentation done in the modernist manner. Fog and smoke both separate people and objects by hiding them, yet they also connect everything they touch (shades of Prufrock but also Bleak House), they are evidence of things unseen, and are both naturally occurring phenomena and artificial ones. And so on. The poems deftly explore these paradoxes without hammering at them. Worth a read.
Thank you to FSG and Netgalley for this ARC! A beautiful collection of poems that is rooted in the familial home and in the state of California where forest fires rage. They explore the delicate tension of being present to the everyday life of mothering while also bearing witness to the increasing destruction of climate change. "Fog," "The Fire Map," and "The Web" were all standouts.
The writing in this book is talky, sometimes surprising, but mostly quiet and encouraging. The long first poem, Fog, is one of the more puzzling ones. Although the massive California fires of recent years are an important theme in this book and hang like smoke over it, many of the poems are reactions to parenting and other relationships.
There was a subtle yearning to connect deeply with the collection; however, by the time I reached the final poem, it became clear that such a connection had not been established. Nevertheless, the first poem, “Fog,” stood out as particularly compelling.
Great blend of the anxieties and wonders of parenthood against the natural disaster of our world unraveling! Definitely worth your time when it comes out early next year.
An intriguing collection of poems that explore nature and human complicity towards nature and towards themselves. This poetry was wondrous in its complexity.
〝fog it never covered everything like a shroud. it was always suspended over like nineteenth-century women waiting for proposals〞
★★★
thank you to farrar, straus and giroux and netgalley for providing me with this arc.
this collection moves through three sections: first, the poet follows her local fog’s cyclical journey of descent and dispersion. second, in a sort of pastoral interlude, she travels widely, almost erratically, to the california desert, the greater world, and ancient history. finally, she descends into the enclosed space of the household, and the increased confinement and intimacy of raising a child during the pandemic. peterson unfolds the small moments that make up our lives and reveals the truths contained within them.
I'm going to be honest, this collection was very mediocre. while I loved the themes and the concept of fog end smoke in both a literal and metaphorical sense; the poems themselves just weren't that good. nothing was memorable about it. it had so much potential but it just fell flat and it felt kind of rushed. I could see this being a good collection for beginners since it's very easy to understand and very much a comment on topics relevant today and I think I would've eaten this up a couple years ago; but with my current tastes and knowledge of poetry it was sadly a disappointment.