One Big Self: An Investigation

by C.D. Wright, Deborah Luster

"For a long while now, C. D. Wright has been writing some of the greatest poetry-cum-prose you can find in American literature. One Big Self does to the contemporary prison-industrial complex what James Agee did to poverty — it reacts passionately and lyrically (and idiosyncratically) to a sociopolitical abomination. This book, while angry and sorrowful and bewildered, has humor, constant levity and candor, and countless moments of incredible beauty." —Dave Eggers, The New York Times Book Review “Wright has found a way to wed fragments of an iconic America to a luminously strange idiom, eerie as a tin whistle, which she uses to evoke the haunted quality of our carnal existence.”— The New Yorker Inspired by numerous visits inside Louisiana state prisons—where MacArthur Fellow C.D. Wright served as a “factotum” for a portrait photographer— One Big Self bears witness to incarcerated men and women and speaks to the psychic toll of protracted time passed in constricted space. It is a riveting mosaic of distinct voices, epistolary pieces, elements from a moralistic board game, road signage, prison data, inmate correspondence, and “counts” of things—from baby’s teeth to chigger Count your folding money
Count the times you said you wouldn’t go back
Count your debts
Count the roaches when the light comes on
Count your kids after the housefire One Big Self —originally published as a large-format limited edition that featured photographs and text—was selected by The New York Times and The Village Voice as a notable book of the year. This edition features the poem exclusively. C.D. Wright is the author of ten books of poetry, including several collaborations with photographer Deborah Luster. She is a professor at Brown University.

Genres: Poetry, Nonfiction, School, Cultural, Read For School, College

96 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2003

About the author

C. D. Wright was born in Mountain Home, Arkansas. She earned a BA in French from Memphis State College (now the University of Memphis) in 1971 and briefly attended law school before leaving to pursue an MFA from the University of Arkansas, which she received in 1976. Her poetry thesis was titled Alla Breve Loving.

In 1977 the publishing company founded by Frank Stanford, Lost Roads Publishers, published Wright's first collection, Room Rented by A Single Woman. After Stanford died in 1978, Wright took over Lost Roads, continuing the mission of publishing new poets and starting the practice of publishing translations. In 1979, she moved to San Francisco, where she met poet Forrest Gander. Wright and Gander married in 1983 and had a son, Brecht, and co-edited Lost Roads until 2005.

In 1981, Wright lived in Dolores Hidalgo, Mexico and completed her third book of poems, Translation of the Gospel Back into Tongues. In 1983 she moved to Providence, Rhode Island to teach writing at Brown University as the Israel J. Kapstein Professor of English. In 2013,

C.D. Wright died on January 12, 2016 at the age of 67 in Barrington, Rhode Island.

Reviews

[Bridget · Rating 5 out of 5]

Do yourself a favor and read this - and when reading it, listen along to the author reciting it here.

Wright paints a picture of life inside the southern prison system. She immerses you in that particular way of life in a very human yet spooky poetic verse. It's been a few months since I've really appreciated a poem, and this was a nice fresh start. Sometimes, the English language is just goddamn mesmerizing.

[Patty Gone · Rating 5 out of 5]

One Big Self is a brilliant exercise in form: Wright draws on conversation snippets, street signs, and personal rumination, arranging them into cohesive poems that orbit a central event: Wright & photographer Deborah Lester spent significant time at three prisons in Louisiana. Wright is a sponge, a master observer. In lesser hands, this is a standard victim narrative. Academic white woman interviews predominantly black prison culture & exposes atrocities. Yet Wright finds humor here, she doesn't blame only the system, blame is equally distributed. This is no one's fault. She points without pointing fingers, & because of her elliptical quoting, the reader never spends too much time with a single prisoner, never 'identifies.' Wright asks us to remain objective; she gives us the big picture: quotes, numbers, absurdities adding up to a history of the jailed through mosaic.

[Nicola · Rating 5 out of 5]

Witness. Wright allows the reader to witness these convicts, these Louisiana jails, the experience of entering and being able to leave them, and feel the confusion and strength of such witnessing. She refrains from moralizing, instead giving the fragments. Arranging the fragments in such a way as to let the voices circle into themselves and amplify into "One Big Self." The big pages, the long lengths of her lines, the phrases dangling in space, and the spaces between lines also aid in this sense of hugeness, as well as the sense of a vacuum where time is felt too much--and thus all the counting and inventoring. This must be read in one sitting.

[S P · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘Who are you going to believe me or my lying eyes

The goal is to transcend the course taken by blood
color-coded authority paternal cruelty

All these days I’ve been off death row
death row has not been off me
the words of an exonerated man

Amaranthus, love lies bleeding to death
they call the summer poinsettia’

(from 'Modern Times', p33)

[Bradi · Rating 4 out of 5]

There’s power in the unfamiliar, which is what I discovered reading this. I’ve never read a book like this before—each page is an enigma, and a continuation of the last. But I found great nuggets of wisdom in these pages and hard truths. A lot of the content was a bit nonsensical to me and didn’t resonate, but the parts that did hit, hit HARD. It also made a huge difference to read aloud; I think these poems are meant to be read aloud. I also really appreciate the purpose of this book in representing and witnessing the lives of the incarcerated.

One of my favorite lines: “The you that you fear is here. The fear that you fear is everywhere.”

[LoriO · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5, rounded up, because the thing missing for me was the photography that should have/did accompany this poetry, and that's not Wright's fault. That's the fault of a version of the book that simply doesn't include the photos.

Even without them, though, this ... collection of poems? single poem in sections? ... poetic investigation of imprisoned human beings, in all their guises, is just brilliant. Beautiful, raw language.

[Michael Fuhrman]

“This is a kicks’ camp. Nothing positive come out of here except the praying. Never been around this many women in my life. Never picked up cursing before.— down for manslaughter, forty years”

“What is that the disciples are eating do you think
Crawfish Chicken Gar”

“You with the dirty blond hair, backcountry scars, and the lazy dog-eye. You shot the law and the law won.”

“What does that tattoo say / That’s my baby’s name / What is your baby’s name / UTOPIA”

[Ky Simpson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow, so turns out I love documentary poetry. This work really moved me. It touched on some subjects near and dear to my heart. I love and miss my southern clients with AWC. It’s cool to see these people be given a voice. I SO recommend.

4.5 stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️🌜

[Charis · Rating 4 out of 5]

Odd and lyrical but captures the voices incredibly well.

[emma ☆ · Rating 2 out of 5]

3/10

- Amazing idea, not super well executed in my humble opinion.

[K · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've always loved C.D. Wright. She writes in a way that is emotional and experimental at the same time. She uses a lot of space in this book of poems and that works well with the subject matter. Repetition, heat, and the constant question about the worth of prisoners returns throughout each section. The reader is almost unsure where one poem ends, another begins, or if it is all one poem. You feel trapped, but get the sense of being able to escape, which is how CD Wright must have felt in the prison talking to the prisoners about their lives. She even mentions this, "If you were me:/ If you wanted blueberries you could have a big bowl." This section is in prose. CD Wright is amazing. Everyone should buy me a copy of this book.

[Mia · Rating 5 out of 5]

Benjamin says something about how all masterpieces obliterate a genre, no? My favorite books tend to, at the least, mess with them. This book, like most of Wright's, isn't quite here or there. It's documentary (like Agee!); it's conversational. It's not as splendid as DEEP STEP COME SHINING (ah ah ah!), but it's gorgeously clear-eyed and strange. It's the sort of book that works wonderfully but would be a disaster to imitate. (And so many poets are writing books "on" something today and proceeding by collage...) Loved reading it, though. Now I want to see all of Luster's photographs.

[Esabetta · Rating 4 out of 5]

written in a similar style to deepstep come shining. that headless floating voice feeling. quotes from prisoners, sign posts, posters. lousiana heavy as a bell in the heat and driving around the backroads with the windows down. what i found most interesting is thinking about when something clicks together and when it doesn't. i'm not sure i could say exactly why deepstep does. the styles are so similar. the difference between very very good and stunning.

[Leslie · Rating 5 out of 5]

what i love most about this book is the collage of actual voices, sign quotes and thoughts from the speaker/interviewer. this choice has heft; it really goes for the gut and i love that. i listened to a (fascinating!) interview with C.D. Wright about her process and it reminded me so much of the social science research we do at my day job. now i am stoked about data collection/poetry research overlap!

[Heather · Rating 5 out of 5]

A book that takes a snapshot look at the Louisiana prison system and the faces that comprise this system. The book portrays the complexity of situations that exist. What to think of a person, and a society, that imprisons more people of one person's immediate family then live outside the prison complex?

[Jessie · Rating 5 out of 5]

A total immersion into the idiom/grit/ache of Louisiana prisons; the photo edition by Deborah Luster is an overwhelming compilation of inmate portraits; I taught the poems in my intro class--50% loved it, 50% hated it--no doubt this book is about encounter.

[Sarah (In A Book Bind) · Rating 3 out of 5]

This isn't the style of poetry that I particularly enjoy, but the raw emotions Wright captures are compelling. The poems will pause you to stop and think about your life, the life of prison inmates, and whether the two are really all that different.

[Peggy · Rating 5 out of 5]

I've had this book on my to-read list for a long time. I saw it on lists of research-based poetry, an interest of mine, but I knew nothing more than that. One Big Self is the outcome of a photography project that Deborah Luster undertook with Wright to document the lives of inmates at three Louisiana penitentiaries. Luster photographed 1500 inmates; Wright joined her on three trips and wrote the text.

At first, I felt that something was missing. I wanted to see the photographs. How closely does Wright's text relate to Luster's portraits? I wanted to see the faces of the individuals who said such things as, "All these days I've been off death row / death row has not been off me," and, "See the black curl under my chin / I live on the ground by day and by night..."

Eventually, I stopped wishing for what wasn't there. Wright's words became a poem of multiple voices speaking of things I didn't expect, things I would not have known. Though they describe lives of poverty and violence, Wright does not have an agenda for the reader. She inserts no sentimentality. These voices are real and get my attention and respect because they sound real.

[Mona Kareem · Rating 1 out of 5]

Her writing style attempts to mold together voices and experiences of the incarcerated. It feels lazy, redundant, sometimes agitating. I did not know two white women worked on this collaboration but the writing style exposed its author. Wright is the daughter of a judge! my stomach hurts as she indulges in erasing their stories only to make some pale writing out of them, playing on the "absurd" details of their miserable lives. misery is amusing! Why take on such radical project if you are nothing radical!!

[Keith Taylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

Once again, while looking through old reviews, I run across one I wrote about a poet who died, this time one who was gone too suddenly, too young. Now it is clear to me that what I found most attractive in Wright's work was her impulse toward the documentary imagination. She did research and the research shaped the poetic investigation. Here's something I wrote mostly about this book:

https://annarborobserver.com/articles...

[EL]

i think this is probably a lot more sensical in photobook form. the prison industrial complex is bleak, the south sounds bleak. the counting lists are effective. “enter a silence that never reverses itself” is devastating and trenchant.

[Maya Danielle · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mansion of Happiness: but who really can play the game? Because it's definitely not the inmates who can count their belongings on one hand and take their dying breath with the other.
My thoughts were provoked.
I was playing the game.
First one to the end wins- but it is end of their life.

[Zach · Rating 3 out of 5]

Important but weird.

[Debs · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars Would love to find the companion photography book

[Thu Dao · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book introduced me to docu-poetry, very much reminding of The Prison in 12 Landscapes -- excellent documentary by Brett Story.

[Gwen · Rating 4 out of 5]

A collage of words

[Will Washburn · Rating 4 out of 5]

if you like private prisons, you’re not gonna like this one right here.

[emma]

“It is not alone the meaning of sorrow and its beauty / but the ongoingness of things that so impress me”

[Hannah Warren · Rating 5 out of 5]

A rendering account of witness: tying together fragments of conversation with Louisiana inmates, Wright uses repetition and documentation to give brief insight into the American prison system.

[ashabella · Rating 4 out of 5]

quite a good read & i really enjoyed her poetry style 🙂‍↕️