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Black Box
“Belieu’s poems use a vernacular of their own to suggest a noir world of erotic innuendo and red lights waiting to be run.”— Neon
Black Box is a raw, intense book, fueled by a devastating infidelity. With her marriage shattered, Erin Belieu sifts the wreckage for the black box, the record of disaster. Propelled by a blistering and clarifying rage, she composed at fever pitch and produced riveting, unforgettable poems, such as the ten-part sequence “In the Red Dress I Wear to Your Funeral”:
I root through your remains,
looking for the black box. Nothing left
but glossy chunks, a pimp’s platinum
tooth clanking inside the urn. I play you
over and over, my beloved conspiracy,
my personal Zapruder film—look. . .
When Belieu was invited by the Poetry Foundation to keep a public journal on their new website, readers responded to the Black Box poems, calling them “dark, twisted, disturbed, and disturbing” and Belieu a “frightening genius.” All true.
Black Box is a raw, intense book, fueled by a devastating infidelity. With her marriage shattered, Erin Belieu sifts the wreckage for the black box, the record of disaster. Propelled by a blistering and clarifying rage, she composed at fever pitch and produced riveting, unforgettable poems, such as the ten-part sequence “In the Red Dress I Wear to Your Funeral”:
I root through your remains,
looking for the black box. Nothing left
but glossy chunks, a pimp’s platinum
tooth clanking inside the urn. I play you
over and over, my beloved conspiracy,
my personal Zapruder film—look. . .
When Belieu was invited by the Poetry Foundation to keep a public journal on their new website, readers responded to the Black Box poems, calling them “dark, twisted, disturbed, and disturbing” and Belieu a “frightening genius.” All true.
- GenresPoetry
80 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 2006
144 people want to read
About the author
Erin Belieu
17 books33 followersAssociate Professor, MFA The Ohio State University (1992), MA Boston University (1995), specializes in poetry. Her first book, Infanta, was selected by Hayden Carruth for the National Poetry Series and was named one of the ten best books of 1995 by Library Journal, Washington Post Book World, and the National Book Critics' Circle. Her second collection, One Above and One Below, won the Ohioana Award and the Society of Midland Authors Award. Her poems have appeared in The Atlantic Monthly, Esquire, Slate, Nerve, The Yale Review, TriQuarterly, Ploughshares, The New York Times, and others. She previously served as managing editor of AGNI.
Belieu's third poetry collection, Black Box, was published by Copper Canyon press in early 2007 and was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. Poems from Black Box appeared in places such as Ploughshares, Tin House and The Virginia Quarterly Review (and are available to read in the magazines' website archives). Her poem "The Last Of The Gentlemen Heartbreakers" was featured on the Poetry Daily website. Belieu also wrote as a featured poet for The Poetry Foundation website in July 2006. The daily blog she kept for the foundation can be found at www.poetryfoundation.org.
In September 2006, Belieu embarked on the Wave Press Poetry Bus Tour. Along with poets such as Matthew Zapruder, Joshua Beckman, Eileen Myles and Arthur Sze, Belieu traveled cross country in a tour bus, stopping to read from Black Box in places such as Seattle, Spokane, Missoula, Boise, Jackson Hole and Omaha.
In August 2009, Belieu co founded (with poet Cate Marvin) the organization VIDA: Women In Literary Arts whose mission is "to explore critical and cultural perceptions of writing by women through meaningful conversation and the exchange of ideas among existing and emerging literary communities." Since the organization's founding, VIDA has become a strong national media presence and Belieu has focused her writing on non fiction, responding to issues of gender bias in publishing in places such as Slate and The New York Times. In 2010, VIDA will be a sponsor of the AWP conference in Washington DC.
Belieu is presently at work on a non fiction memoir detailing her experiences in parenting a special needs child. New poems have appeared recently in Lit, 32 Poems and Prairie Schooner. Belieu is also the Artistic Director of the Port Townsend Writers Conference. The conference brings in nationally and internationally acclaimed poets and prose writers to work with participants every July on the island of Port Townsend, Washington.
Belieu's third poetry collection, Black Box, was published by Copper Canyon press in early 2007 and was a finalist for the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. Poems from Black Box appeared in places such as Ploughshares, Tin House and The Virginia Quarterly Review (and are available to read in the magazines' website archives). Her poem "The Last Of The Gentlemen Heartbreakers" was featured on the Poetry Daily website. Belieu also wrote as a featured poet for The Poetry Foundation website in July 2006. The daily blog she kept for the foundation can be found at www.poetryfoundation.org.
In September 2006, Belieu embarked on the Wave Press Poetry Bus Tour. Along with poets such as Matthew Zapruder, Joshua Beckman, Eileen Myles and Arthur Sze, Belieu traveled cross country in a tour bus, stopping to read from Black Box in places such as Seattle, Spokane, Missoula, Boise, Jackson Hole and Omaha.
In August 2009, Belieu co founded (with poet Cate Marvin) the organization VIDA: Women In Literary Arts whose mission is "to explore critical and cultural perceptions of writing by women through meaningful conversation and the exchange of ideas among existing and emerging literary communities." Since the organization's founding, VIDA has become a strong national media presence and Belieu has focused her writing on non fiction, responding to issues of gender bias in publishing in places such as Slate and The New York Times. In 2010, VIDA will be a sponsor of the AWP conference in Washington DC.
Belieu is presently at work on a non fiction memoir detailing her experiences in parenting a special needs child. New poems have appeared recently in Lit, 32 Poems and Prairie Schooner. Belieu is also the Artistic Director of the Port Townsend Writers Conference. The conference brings in nationally and internationally acclaimed poets and prose writers to work with participants every July on the island of Port Townsend, Washington.
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Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
November 11, 2007
erin belieu has always been mordant and funny and seriously fucked-up, and now has put out a book that focuses her strangeness on one thing--her ex-husband (who i never thought she should have married(he always struck me as a douchebag)). but more to the point, the book is like getting kicked repeatedly while listening to AC/DC or the Stooges going full-blast in the background. Check out th vitriol in the book's centerpiece, "The Red Dress I Wear to Your Funeral." Damn.
December 21, 2007
After reading some of the previous reviews I’m asking myself, “Isn’t the point of reading poetry more to ask what it tells you about yourself as the reader, than it is about trying to puzzle out what it tells you about the writer?” What? Is goodreads the In Touch magazine of the poetry world? This book isn’t a tell-all auto biography, it is an art work – and a damned good one at that.
I can’t argue that any work of art that has this much vitriol and this much intensity did not in all likelihood start from a dark, personal place, but any artist worth their salt moves beyond their own b.s. There are some strong emotions in this book, but craftsmanship is never, ever sacrificed to make a point. That’s one of the things that makes Erin Belieu so good.
Jeff, you write your review as if you know Ms. Belieu. How carefully did you read this book? You make it sound as if all the poems are about one person – her ex-husband. All of the poems are not directed at just one person, and, if you knew Erin at all, you would know that the bulk of the poems – the meanest poems, if you will - in this book actually are not about her ex-husband, but someone else entirely. And really, “douche bag”?!? This is a public forum, for goodness sakes, not some Junior High basement party.
As for the book, it is nothing short of amazing. The thing that I love the most about it is that the themes, ranging from apathy and regret (at the books happiest spots) to cold anger, brutal jealousy and mean heartache, are portrayed through images that have brilliance and beauty. I love the juxtaposition of such cold, ugly emotions with the beauty of the actual writing.
I am not a writer and I can’t do the book justice with words. Read it. It is worth the journey. And if the book leaves you feeling too sad, read the last poem carefully. You will see that the voice of these poems finds its own relief.
I can’t argue that any work of art that has this much vitriol and this much intensity did not in all likelihood start from a dark, personal place, but any artist worth their salt moves beyond their own b.s. There are some strong emotions in this book, but craftsmanship is never, ever sacrificed to make a point. That’s one of the things that makes Erin Belieu so good.
Jeff, you write your review as if you know Ms. Belieu. How carefully did you read this book? You make it sound as if all the poems are about one person – her ex-husband. All of the poems are not directed at just one person, and, if you knew Erin at all, you would know that the bulk of the poems – the meanest poems, if you will - in this book actually are not about her ex-husband, but someone else entirely. And really, “douche bag”?!? This is a public forum, for goodness sakes, not some Junior High basement party.
As for the book, it is nothing short of amazing. The thing that I love the most about it is that the themes, ranging from apathy and regret (at the books happiest spots) to cold anger, brutal jealousy and mean heartache, are portrayed through images that have brilliance and beauty. I love the juxtaposition of such cold, ugly emotions with the beauty of the actual writing.
I am not a writer and I can’t do the book justice with words. Read it. It is worth the journey. And if the book leaves you feeling too sad, read the last poem carefully. You will see that the voice of these poems finds its own relief.
August 10, 2014
This collection of poems delves into deep emotional territory with grace and unexpectedly beautiful language. From the first poem to the last, there are seldom a sentence without revelation, without a twist of phrase that lends itself to novel understanding of a subject as old as relationships and jilted love.
For example: from the opening poem, "Of the Poet's Youth," Belieu is able to simultaneously wax nostalgic while effortlessly dropping a line like: "Don't the best characters know better / than to live too long?" which suggests a much larger, less personal history.
A little later, in the poem "The Birthmark," Belieu exhibits the ability to make an age-old idiom something fresh: "you were the cartoon man / who leaps from one inferno / to land with blistered feet inside / another."
The images and language found within this collection are sure to please even the most critical eye. Or, in one of my favorite poems from the collection, tackle a subject that doesn't necessarily scream "Poetry!" in the high-fallutin and strictly academic sense. Namely, American football. "I Heart Your Dog's Head" is perhaps my favorite display of concise language within the mode of narrative storytelling within this collection.
Not to be outdone, the sequence from "In the Red Dress I wear to your Funeral" is powerful, reaching crescendo and almost losing it before reeling it back in and holding up the trophy fish for all to see.
*****
For example: from the opening poem, "Of the Poet's Youth," Belieu is able to simultaneously wax nostalgic while effortlessly dropping a line like: "Don't the best characters know better / than to live too long?" which suggests a much larger, less personal history.
A little later, in the poem "The Birthmark," Belieu exhibits the ability to make an age-old idiom something fresh: "you were the cartoon man / who leaps from one inferno / to land with blistered feet inside / another."
The images and language found within this collection are sure to please even the most critical eye. Or, in one of my favorite poems from the collection, tackle a subject that doesn't necessarily scream "Poetry!" in the high-fallutin and strictly academic sense. Namely, American football. "I Heart Your Dog's Head" is perhaps my favorite display of concise language within the mode of narrative storytelling within this collection.
Not to be outdone, the sequence from "In the Red Dress I wear to your Funeral" is powerful, reaching crescendo and almost losing it before reeling it back in and holding up the trophy fish for all to see.
*****
February 14, 2008
With Black Box, Erin Belieu examines the life and death of romantic relationships in a way that is at once raw and sensual. The title lends itself to the harsh and varied honesty contained within. The phrase black box invokes the black box of aerospace, an uncompromising record of doomed events. Belieu's collection of poems shares this function. While they are tainted with her bias, as they should be, being her poems, she spares no one with her work. I'm not a poetry person, but these poems, the frenzied and unapologetic reflections of an artist, spoke to me, and I think they speak to anyone who has seen the death of a relationship. Black Box is the culmination of anguish and loss and the tone of her poetry reflects that with fury and also, defiance. Erin Belieu rises from the wreckage of a failed relationship. Love doesn't conquer all. It hasn't conquered Belieu, though it has left her battle ravaged. These poems are her wounds but they are also her salve.
December 17, 2008
What a totally bad-ass, searing book. Talk about a strong voice-- wow. A couple of the sections in the long poem "In the Red Dress I Wear to Your Funeral" dragged for me, but overall, this is the kind of raw power I feel is missing in the bulk of contemporary American poetry. Here's the ending to "Liar's Karma," a full-throttle, full-on f*ck you poem in near-heroic couplets:
Consider this our permanent address,
in stunted rooms where fear barely scrapes up the mortgage
and envy ties a hangman's full Widsor around
your neck. Trust me, you'll suffer that silky tongue, friend.
It's the sorrow you made me, the knot frenching your throat.
Consider this our permanent address,
in stunted rooms where fear barely scrapes up the mortgage
and envy ties a hangman's full Widsor around
your neck. Trust me, you'll suffer that silky tongue, friend.
It's the sorrow you made me, the knot frenching your throat.
August 28, 2007
I'm not a huge fan of modern poetry, but this collection is pretty incredible, in particular "The Red Dress I Wear to your Funeral."
I am a borscht-belt comedienne
working the audience from behind
your headstone.
I shimmy onstage between Pam
& Her Magic Organ and
the gigantic poodle act.
Your coffin is a tough room.
How incredible is that???
I am a borscht-belt comedienne
working the audience from behind
your headstone.
I shimmy onstage between Pam
& Her Magic Organ and
the gigantic poodle act.
Your coffin is a tough room.
How incredible is that???
January 26, 2008
She's a remarkable poet, true heir to Sexton and Plath, not only because of the confessional nature of the poems but also because she uses their techniques of relentless metaphorizing, invective, performative speech, blending in monster-movie and fairy tale references, etc., and the result is stunning. One of my fave poetry reads for the year.
September 25, 2008
The last poem in this collection makes it. It read like an Aimee Mann album. (Belieu was listening to Bachelor No. 2 when she wrote this collection...) Loved the violence, the emotion and the release that came with it. This collection has energy without forsaking the craft. If I had to relive my undergrad years the only thing I would have to take with me is this book. It would be my guide.
March 16, 2008
i really love the way erin belieu uses familiar and comfortable images to unnerving effect in her poetry. she pushes past convention and really examines -- or holds up for her reader's examination -- so many things that are taken for granted. challenging, but rewarding.
March 25, 2007
Love it. Just love it.
July 27, 2007
I love me some Erin Belieu, but this one took a little longer to get going than her previous two books. Still quite good if you can stomach her portraits of her toddler son and asshole exhusband.
February 10, 2009
Lyrically the same poet, but a hard departure from her earlier work: falling and loving the skinned knees type of poetry.
November 27, 2013
this is one of those books full of poems that i would love to be able to write. funny, insightful, playful, honest.
August 12, 2023
In the Graveyard
Conceited boy, even here, in the angels’ waiting
room, where the dead win all the beauty
contests by default, you arrived with the sun
behind you, working your counterfeit halo,
true as a tin star. It’s a fine effect. But today,
for once, you take second to the ugly
jailbreak of azaleas rioting behind us, where
I kiss you again and we linger on the bench
of a long-gone husband’s plot. Though,
if you are what I think you are, with terrible
friends in sublime places, explain to me your
cold kind of heart, unmoved by the inappropriate.
Teach me to survive you. Tell me, what kind
won’t choose these awful flowers? Who
refuses this bleating, urgent pink? (27)
Conceited boy, even here, in the angels’ waiting
room, where the dead win all the beauty
contests by default, you arrived with the sun
behind you, working your counterfeit halo,
true as a tin star. It’s a fine effect. But today,
for once, you take second to the ugly
jailbreak of azaleas rioting behind us, where
I kiss you again and we linger on the bench
of a long-gone husband’s plot. Though,
if you are what I think you are, with terrible
friends in sublime places, explain to me your
cold kind of heart, unmoved by the inappropriate.
Teach me to survive you. Tell me, what kind
won’t choose these awful flowers? Who
refuses this bleating, urgent pink? (27)
January 30, 2018
impartial as
the nanny's hand into
her charge's honeycomb of fever
the nanny's hand into
her charge's honeycomb of fever
December 29, 2024
A very good poet but these just happened to not be for me.
May 24, 2011
Grandiose bellicosity is the predominant intonation of Erin Belieu's dithyrambic Black Box, a book of masked rants on the themes of betrayal, outrage, and silence. The carefully constructed ethos of this volume of dramatic monologues responds to infidelity, though ultimately it's silent about whose infidelity tore a hole in the now lost relationship; and what, precisely, has been lost? Outrage can't fill the hole. Most of what we will get, then, of the antagonist, is that he has moved on; perhaps had already moved on while the narrator was his lover. The details of his callowness, his pornography collection, his youthful beauty, and wealth, his sweaty cock, his charming and ultimately loyal man-friend . . . don't exactly add up to a portrait. Nor are the narrator's own masks proposed as anything more than mythographic cribs, resonances of a hyperbole it's difficult to imagine would be any less bitter were their speaker any less erudite. The best poem here ("Below Zero") makes a resonance of de Quincey's opium eater, with metonymies so sharp that they begin to suggest a subject: "If I was the black | diamond of your narcoleptic dreams, then | she was the wish you make for more | wishes, a vicuna-lined pussy || with extra slots for your credit cards."* The metonymy relying on the the association of the "vicuna" (a South American camel) with "Black diamonds" (a gem the geological stratum of which connects Brazil to the Central African Republic) is Belieu's bawdy pun entertaining the possibility of the narrator's own exploitation of the antagonist; the "jewel" of their connection is the donnee, or unspoken of sexual relation, that leads the speaker to the wild revanche of a "vicuna-lined pussy" -- a line to get your hackles up, for sure. Do the pyrotechnics nail the inwardness of the protagonist's position? The toughness, the smarts, and real emotion, cannot obviate our need for the representation of not just the courage of speech, but also its mourning.
*NB: At this juncture of the original comment, therein follows this sentence, amended after the discussion in the comments field. "The racial underpinnings of this (the "vicuna-lined pussy" is a wild revanche that suggests the narrator's conspiracy in materialist exploitation of sub-equatorial splendor) begs for our attention, and may indeed catch out the grandiosity in some habitual reproachfulness (as does, after all, Bob Dylan), but where is the self-examination in any of it?"
*NB: At this juncture of the original comment, therein follows this sentence, amended after the discussion in the comments field. "The racial underpinnings of this (the "vicuna-lined pussy" is a wild revanche that suggests the narrator's conspiracy in materialist exploitation of sub-equatorial splendor) begs for our attention, and may indeed catch out the grandiosity in some habitual reproachfulness (as does, after all, Bob Dylan), but where is the self-examination in any of it?"
May 10, 2009
I'd give four stars to the best of these poems and two to the rest, which is unfair and rather silly--is there anything more hopelessly subjective than a person's response to poetry? What can I say....The back of the book promises poems that are visceral, raw, and violent; while it certainly delivers at points, I suppose it just wasn't as high voltage as I was hoping for. Which isn't to say that these poems aren't skillfully executed--they absolutely are. I guess I just keep looking for a replication of reading-Ariel-at-sixteen and it hasn't been forthcoming in the poetry genre. Maybe that's something that can't be replicated. Maybe these poems are meant to be read aloud (that is sort of the point of poetry, right?). Although they look good on the page, too. And there are some gems in here.
From "Pity":
Once I took it in my mouth, I had to/admit, pity tastes good, like the sandwiches/they make in French patisseries, the loaf smeared/with force-fed organs, crust that shreds the skin behind/your teeth....
From "Shooting Range":
Aren't you just like the Daddy every girl dreams of, with your handgun cocked and your pants pockets full of dirty peppermints?
From "Pity":
Once I took it in my mouth, I had to/admit, pity tastes good, like the sandwiches/they make in French patisseries, the loaf smeared/with force-fed organs, crust that shreds the skin behind/your teeth....
From "Shooting Range":
Aren't you just like the Daddy every girl dreams of, with your handgun cocked and your pants pockets full of dirty peppermints?
Read
October 1, 2011I've known Belieu's work since a triolet I read during my Boston years, but this alternately blistering, funny, regretful, and loving--Belieu is a mother of an at-the-time small boy--account of a broken marriage is not to be missed. To name only one of the collection's numerous strengths, there's a wonderful counterpoint between the most venerable poetic rhythms and the slangy cadences of contemporary speech that reminds me of the way that the blues can be heard beneath--and around, and within--the best rock'n'roll. For, as they say, the best blues always comes down to one man and one woman--well, often there are two men or two women involved, which is what causes all the trouble.
September 19, 2008
I'll be honest, I didn't finish it. Technically it was quite good, but I became bored very quickly with it. I'm sure this has more to do with my taste than the author's skill.
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews