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Belonging: Three Generations
In Belonging, Wendy Hoffman focuses on a familiar American dialogue—the relationship between the Old Country and the New Country. The dialogue, fraught with silence and shame, occurs over the course of three generations. Much of the dialogue is physical and literally the food the generations consume. In her baking and cooking the grandmother embodies much Old Country Lore. Some of that wisdom is passed on, and, inevitably, much is lost—the tragedy known as “Time.” We see in Hoffman’s metaphorical flights and blunt perceptions (see her remarkable poem “My Public Life as a Piano” that nods to Bruno Schulz) women thrashing and trying to gain some meaningful footing. The emotional consequences are typically devastating and that is the pity and honesty of this brave book.
—Baron Wormser, author of The History Hotel
In this moving memoir of three generations of women, Hoffman is able to conjure individuals and eras with single sensory we hear the “sigh” of the “empty little paper cups” as the box of chocolates is passed around, we lick the “slender cage-like bars” of the beaters, we feel the “knots of sand” squeeze between our fingers to make drip castles—and then the metaphorical significance sinks in. Even as these poems expose the “coffin” of marriage and its abuses from a dry-eyed stance, their imaginative leaps “cry for what might have been different.”
—Rebecca Starks, author of Fetch, Muse
In the / Preface to Belonging, Wendy Hoffman’s second poetry collection, the poet forecasts what will “…my grandmother sixty years in her coffin/her rugged hands still rolling out strudel dough…” But she “whom they did not find fetching” will “untwist/their tangled thoughts.” Hoffman does exactly that in her memoir-like poems. Grandmother Bella “had to leave Belarus, like all the Jews” whose hearts became “a tribe of terrorized birds.” But the “sulfurous wounds” of the past reemerge in America. Despite moments of redemption, Hoffman concludes “I spent most of my life knowing the truth and being told something else.” These poems celebrate her victory over that protracted deception.
—Angela Patten, author of The Oriole & the Ovenbird and other books
—Baron Wormser, author of The History Hotel
In this moving memoir of three generations of women, Hoffman is able to conjure individuals and eras with single sensory we hear the “sigh” of the “empty little paper cups” as the box of chocolates is passed around, we lick the “slender cage-like bars” of the beaters, we feel the “knots of sand” squeeze between our fingers to make drip castles—and then the metaphorical significance sinks in. Even as these poems expose the “coffin” of marriage and its abuses from a dry-eyed stance, their imaginative leaps “cry for what might have been different.”
—Rebecca Starks, author of Fetch, Muse
In the / Preface to Belonging, Wendy Hoffman’s second poetry collection, the poet forecasts what will “…my grandmother sixty years in her coffin/her rugged hands still rolling out strudel dough…” But she “whom they did not find fetching” will “untwist/their tangled thoughts.” Hoffman does exactly that in her memoir-like poems. Grandmother Bella “had to leave Belarus, like all the Jews” whose hearts became “a tribe of terrorized birds.” But the “sulfurous wounds” of the past reemerge in America. Despite moments of redemption, Hoffman concludes “I spent most of my life knowing the truth and being told something else.” These poems celebrate her victory over that protracted deception.
—Angela Patten, author of The Oriole & the Ovenbird and other books
72 pages, Paperback
Published September 21, 2023
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
May 25, 2024
My initial reaction on reading Belonging was holee friggin shiv. Let me explain why.
It’s a good book, full of intense emotion, horrific history, a sometimes acidic response to memory and trauma. In fact, if this was my collection I would have named it trauma’s lineage or something like it.
The book is memoir in poetic form. From the author’s bibliography, familial history is Hoffman’s metier. The first three of their memoirs are published with Aeon Spirit, and the fourth After Amnesia is on the SmartNews and Survivorship website. If you’re not familiar with the site, it is a place for survivors of extreme abuse.
As for poetic craft, Hoffman is clearly a skilled writer. It is hard to maintain control over words (or anything really) under the pressure of intense feeling and it is clear that no matter the poet’s age (she identifies herself as in her 70s), these feelings are not entirely under control. There is no healing here, but there is practiced and skilled survivorship. One of my favourite sayings: sometimes the only thing a minority can do is survive the majority. In this case, the “majority” is family.
Memorable scenes for me: a little girl being scrubbed hard with soap by a sister to reduce the melanin count in her skin; the child in a dark theatre with her mother trying to establish a necessary physical contact by playing incessantly with mama’s earlobe; the visiting family of women scurrying to get their coats on and leave when the husband comes home; the way baking is central to a story of emotional privation; the grieving wife at the death of an abusive husband. The rage that shimmers from nearly every page.
It’s a wonderful book, but beware.
Wendy Hoffman
It’s a good book, full of intense emotion, horrific history, a sometimes acidic response to memory and trauma. In fact, if this was my collection I would have named it trauma’s lineage or something like it.
The book is memoir in poetic form. From the author’s bibliography, familial history is Hoffman’s metier. The first three of their memoirs are published with Aeon Spirit, and the fourth After Amnesia is on the SmartNews and Survivorship website. If you’re not familiar with the site, it is a place for survivors of extreme abuse.
As for poetic craft, Hoffman is clearly a skilled writer. It is hard to maintain control over words (or anything really) under the pressure of intense feeling and it is clear that no matter the poet’s age (she identifies herself as in her 70s), these feelings are not entirely under control. There is no healing here, but there is practiced and skilled survivorship. One of my favourite sayings: sometimes the only thing a minority can do is survive the majority. In this case, the “majority” is family.
Memorable scenes for me: a little girl being scrubbed hard with soap by a sister to reduce the melanin count in her skin; the child in a dark theatre with her mother trying to establish a necessary physical contact by playing incessantly with mama’s earlobe; the visiting family of women scurrying to get their coats on and leave when the husband comes home; the way baking is central to a story of emotional privation; the grieving wife at the death of an abusive husband. The rage that shimmers from nearly every page.
It’s a wonderful book, but beware.
Wendy Hoffman
November 20, 2023
Belonging is an honest, courageous exploration
in deeply moving detail, of the lives of three generations
of women. I am moved by the emotional truths,
so many of details resonate... the large yellow bowl,
Campbell's tomato soup.....
Poetry that is rich and layered with history.
I will read these over and over for comfort, and for awakening.
in deeply moving detail, of the lives of three generations
of women. I am moved by the emotional truths,
so many of details resonate... the large yellow bowl,
Campbell's tomato soup.....
Poetry that is rich and layered with history.
I will read these over and over for comfort, and for awakening.
October 26, 2023
Belonging: Three Generations by Wendy Hoffman
I love this book of poetry and couldn’t put it down. The poems are vivid, powerful, and full of feeling. The author’s telling of her truth is courageous and filled with meaning while her use of words eloquent.
I love this book of poetry and couldn’t put it down. The poems are vivid, powerful, and full of feeling. The author’s telling of her truth is courageous and filled with meaning while her use of words eloquent.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews