Apocrypha: Catherynne M. Valente's first full-length poetry collection, where freaks, emperors, bodhisattvas, beasts, witches, wicked stepmothers, Greek heroes, told seductively and wickedly in poem and prose, jostle and vie for supremacy . .
Catherynne M. Valente was born on Cinco de Mayo, 1979 in Seattle, WA, but grew up in in the wheatgrass paradise of Northern California. She graduated from high school at age 15, going on to UC San Diego and Edinburgh University, receiving her B.A. in Classics with an emphasis in Ancient Greek Linguistics. She then drifted away from her M.A. program and into a long residence in the concrete and camphor wilds of Japan.
She currently lives in Maine with her partner, two dogs, and three cats, having drifted back to America and the mythic frontier of the Midwest.
I wish I could write with such wild abandonment and fearlessness. Simply stunning poetry by an amazing writer who has a particular gift for weaving together myths, fairy tales and reality, and for using those ornate images to palpably illustrate pain, love and lust. Often intoxicating, occasionally overwhelming, always impressive.
Favorites: Apocrypha Bodhisattva De Naturis Bestiarum Gingerbread The Shield of Achilles Virgil Among the Bees Red Sevens The Metamorphosis of Narcissus Cardinales Virtutes
Rating this collection after reading it only once feels unfair. I am fearful that I missed certain things and I want to read the book again in the hopes of excising that fear.
Valente loves words. I knew this since reading Palimpsest, which I also highly recommend. Valente in verse is even more mesmerizing and frightening at times. Her writing is full of obscene and beautiful imagery described lushly and at times presented abruptly. Apocrypha was an excellent introduction. Specific passages made me gasp in this first poem and in others, such as in Electra Redux,
You gave me this mewling rubber Orestes to love... So I put my fist in his fontanel and carried him like a potted geranium
Song For Three Voices and a Lyre was fascinating with how Valente was able to merge ancient and present times. A voice is a voice after all, a feeling a feeling, regardless of the time or place, and I love that this poem made me think of this for near on an entire day.
Cardinales Virtutes may be my favorite. This poem stuck with me beyond the rest. I read it three consecutive times, utterly absorbed by what I can only describe as concerning, beautific, consuming, and offensive religious imagery...
When I was born, the moon was in Virgo. Perhaps I was meant to be a nun, and blister my fingers with tallow, sew up my cunt with copper wire. Should I have scoured the nipples from my breast with a paste of consecrated nettles?
The final poem, Z, was rather grand, it being by far the longest section of the book, full of a strange and obscure progression which I had a bit of trouble with at first. I persevered and began the section titled S and was blown away. I read it once and then once again aloud and everything made sense and I had no idea why it suddenly did and then I read the following words and realized I understood this before the words appeared... This is the lingua ignota. This is the cistern-codex. Meaning lies only in the delegation of phrases, which are servile and base, which go beneath our will like lambs. S felt magical.
These poems are all quite wrapped up with women, their perspective, fears, and angers. All were centered on myths, most notably from Japan and Greece, as well as not so pleasant versions of classic Western fairytales. Valente knows her myth and literature. I must mention Still Life with Wicked Stepmother, another poem in this collection I absolutely loved, one of the grotesque fairytales.
I give this book my strongest recommendation for those who are able to appreciate what I consider to be a singular collection of poetry from an author I wish more people would read. And possibly worship. Grovel, those with vocabulary reserves miniscule in comparison!! :)
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd, Sonia, thank you, thank you, thank you for making this part of my prize for the Dark Fiction Challenge. You could not have chosen anything I wanted or ended up loving more than this book. Notice, this is on my read-or-die shelf. So few make the final cut these days. :)
Apocrypha is the debut poetry collection by Catherynne Valente. Valente is an author whose work I thrive upon. She has a sense of voice and description and volatile vitality that I readily chase after. So when I saw this book on a dime store shelf, I knew I had to have it. However, after reading it, I was left with mixed feelings.
Like all of Valente’s work, Apocrypha has this luminous sense of whispered secrets and shimmering depth. Unfortunately, while the words were beautiful and the stories compelling, I derived no sense of emotional connection or impact from this collection—which deeply saddened me.
The quality of work and writing that I’ve come to expect from Valente is all there, but somewhere between the writer and the reader there was an emotional disconnect so that the impact of the words was the gentle lapping of a tide rather than the summer typhoons Valente normally brings as offering.
Therefore, my overall review of Apocrypha was a 3.
These were beautiful! I didn't realize how many of these I liked until I finished and tabbed up all of the ones that I found particularly beautiful or meaningful--and it was a lot!
Not for me, painfully not for me. The language is just overwhelming, steamrolling and shoving its message. The weight of her ornate words is just too much. I have no problem admitting that some of it was over my head but when it wasn't the poems were dragging me down with the punching of feminist messages. How many times can I read the term ovaries in a collection before I cannot take it any more? I tried to be patient, I tried to see something between heavy language and presentation of men as evil suppressors but for me there was not much there. I always struggle when literature goes down the "so bad men, so poor women" track, that is just a cheap, useless way to deliver feminist agendas I think, and in many parts this is what this collection is doing. The only poems I sort of liked were those where Valente did not fall into that same hole again. But overwhelmingly I hated her choice of language, the heaviness of it and not having room for subtleties. I love Valente's short stories but sometimes there her writing got a bit too much for me too, I have tried a few poems before which I did not like and this collection was unbearable to me. I guess it's clear that her poetry is not for me I would safely give other stories another go.
A collection of poems on themes relating to (mostly) women in Greek mythology, biblical literature, and fairy tales.
I don't feel particularly qualified to review Apocrypha beyond giving my first impressions - I would need to read through it several more times to reach a deeper understanding, and even then, I'm no Classics expert, so some layers of meaning will be beyond me unless I can get hold of an annotated version. I must also admit to having limited experience of reading poetry for fun, other than the odd Neil Gaiman poem I've stumbled across. Oh, and I've read The Lays of Beleriand, but epic poetry has much more of a narrative thread, so feels quite different. I did appreciate studying War Poetry at school. As such, I could point out the odd poetic device, but I most definitely could not comment on the technical quality of a poem.
So with that caveat in mind...
As I'd expect from Catherynne M. Valente, these poems are rich as Christmas cake. Her style is quite storylike, just as her prose is generally pretty poetic, so there is a narrative of sorts to follow in many of these poems, and the verse is rhythmically pleasant to read aloud, though the content is hardly wholesome or subtle. The imagery is graphic and grotesque - and sometimes stifling. The lens is decidedly feminist throughout. I appreciated the folkloric motifs, and the commentary on female fairy-tale protagonists/antagonists in particular, which reminded me of Angela Carter's Book of Fairy Tales.
A book to dip into, rather than to take all at once. Exquisite - but heavy. I fall back upon my Christmas cake simile!
Gorgeous writing, genius use of myth, language and feeling. Minus one star for things I personally find unnecessary, that make me cringe, such as in the title poem, and the very first poem of the collection. Not rated for under 18 I'd say. I won't even give examples. Honestly I feel like taking my copy and turning it into an art journal where I can paint and collage over poems and parts that make me feel grossed out, uncomfortable etc. And keep the rest available to read any old time, and enjoy her play with language.
I feel so happy that I've found Catherynne's art. She uses a language that I can intimately relate to. Her imagery is rich and filled with pleasure and pain. Life and myth go hand in hand here. Like pleasure and pain. Her melody is akin to mine and when I read them, always read aloud, I feel like my heart is beating in it's true form and rhythm again. I'm a vampire for Valente's wor(l)ds. I eat her body of words like it the only nourishment I need.
Valente never, ever fails to stun. Her soul is pure poetry, and her ability to transport readers across times and mythos in everything she writes never fails to take my breath away. Truly a unique and gorgeous collection of raw, wonderful stories.
An incredible study of diction and figurative language. Valente takes words to places you didn't know they could go and introduces you to words you never knew existed. At times, the writing seems sesquipedalian for its own sake, but still the melody of the writing is pleasant to the ears.
Beautifully written poetry. I suggest taking your time reading this one just to be able to absorb all of the profound meanings behind each one. It's complex but intriguing.
A mixed bag of a collection; I loved the title poem, and others tucked within this generous volume, but a number of others fell flat or were too repetitive in theme.
I feel weird rating a Cat Valente book so low -- I love her work so much (she's definitely my favorite author), and I really love all of her other poetry. That being said, I just didn't connect with this work as much. I usually enjoy her ornate language, but this was just too ornate; it made a bit of a barrier between me and the stories that poems tell. There are some great lines, yes, but overall I didn't feel the connection that I usually feel when I read her poetry (oh Oracles! what a volume you are). If you love Valente's more ornate works, you might really love this collection; on the other hand, if you prefer her more pared-down works, this one might leave you feeling a little high and dry.
As much as I adore Valente, her poetry is extremely hit-or-miss. Much of this reads like the overblown stuff we all experiment with when we try writing poetry in high school. I think I read the word "hecatomb" 7 or 8 times.
Some of the poems are wonderful, like "Had He Never Come" or "Still Life With Wicked Stepmother". Others are just lists of metaphors and similes. Sometimes, the imagery is very evocative, but without any clear intention. It sounds pretty, but it's more like a series of beautiful pigments rather than an actual picture.
Valente is an amazing writer, and these poems weave together mythology and fantasy, relationships and fearlessness. I had to read them out loud, just to feel the words spoken. Amazing. My favorites were Apocrypha, Gingerbread, Still Life with Wicked Stepmother, Music of a Proto-Suicide, Algorithm for Finding the Shortest Path Between Two Points, and Cardinales Virtutes.
I was three-quarters through this and thoroughly enjoying it, when it mysteriously went missing. Really luscious and indulgent, I hope that someone found it and finished it for me...
The author's current works are much more accessible. In this book, it's apparent that she's young, erudite, and showing off. The poems are academic, passionate, sexualized, ornate, and fantastical.