A poetry collection that explores the complexity of race and the body for a Black man in contemporary America. The second book by NAACP Image Award finalist Cameron Barnett, Murmur considers the question of how we become who we are. The answers Barnett offers in these poems are neither safe nor easy, as he traces a Black man’s lineage through time and space in contemporary America, navigating personal experiences, political hypocrisies, pop culture, social history, astronomy, and language. Barnett synthesizes unexpected connections and contradictions, exploring the Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921 and the death of Terence Crutcher in 2016 and searching both the stars of Andromeda and a plantation in South Carolina. A diagnosis from the poet’s infancy haunts the poet as he wonders, “like too many Black men,” if “a heart is not enough to keep me alive.”
“Here’s a long story: I would need another lifetime to tell you everything I want to tell you about this one. I would need another still to do most of what I’d like to do in the first. I won’t say that time is a revolving door. The body I was born with has gravity, has light, has orbit. These are not my favorite parts of it. A body is most interesting, where it bends—this is where the potential for collapse lies. I’m learning to embrace all the places where my body fails me.”
The running metaphor of this collection is a childhood diagnosis of a heart murmur that may, or may not, have been important. The uncertainty fuels many of the moments.
My favorite poem of the collection is "Breath" with its line "What I'm saying is that Newton's third law states/ every prayer has an equal and opposite curse." and its excellent finish.
There are several poems entitled "Murmur" in this volume, and I like that idea.
I picked this up at the book rollout reading, after listening to Cameron's impressive reading. (I've heard him read from time to time on the local circuit, and was impressed, but getting the full dose is a definite experience. Pittsburgh had Terence Hayes, and now this...)
I named my favorite poem above, but here's my favorite bit, from "A Second Opinion":
...some people have always known freedom; they aren't the only ones fit for it.
“My sister was made from the wink / of a lighthouse, my brother from a telescope / clapping in on itself. It’s easy to forget / about your heart until you need it. I was made / unable to forget.” I haven’t read a collection of poems that moved me like this one has in some time. This is gorgeous, gorgeous work.
Fine collection by the Pittsburgh-based poet, with running references to his childhood diagnosis of a heart murmur. Barnett explores American history through a Black lens and more in smart, thought-provoking verse.