I picked up the Fitzcarraldo edition of this in Foyles at Waterloo Station and I love everything about it. Most importantly, every poem in it is brilliant. But it’s also a very nice little book. The paper quality is excellent, the font is lovely and easy to read, the text is well laid out, and the amusing, informative notes at the back deepen your insight into the poems and are a joy in themselves.
The first poem is called CENTO FOR THE NIGHT I TRIED STAND UP, which sets the tone perfectly. A cento is a patchwork of lines written by other people, in this case, various stand-up comedians, credited in the notes. This tells you the poet is aware of form and prepared to experiment. I love it when modern poets take well-established verse forms and have fun with them. It shows they’re aware of tradition and care about craft.
The title tells us she has tried stand-up. In other words, she likes making people laugh. A lot of poems in this collection do that. Some even read like stand-up routines. One is actually called STAND-UP ROUTINE.
This cento is, of course, funny. How can it not be when it uses lines from comedians? But it’s more than funny. It’s clever, endearing, and makes you think:
“…There is nothing /
you can do to us that we are not already doing /
to ourselves.”
In the notes, Sasha says this poem is inspired by Nicole Sealey’s “Cento for the Night I said, ‘I love you.’” There can be a self-referential, cliquey aspect to modern poetry that makes outsiders like me feel excluded, but I looked up Sealey’s poem and loved it. Sasha opened up the poetic landscape for me and broadened my horizon. She achieves so much with this opening poem.
Many of the poems are political. That’s inescapable. But they are playfully political. One is called I FEEL LIKE IF I’M NOT WRITING POLITICAL POEMS I’M WASTING MY TIME SO I MADE THIS CONTAINER FOR MYSELF IN WHICH NOT TO BE POLITICAL.
Let’s look at one of her nature poems, BERKSHIRES IN JULY.
She’s on vacation in the Berkshires, Massachusetts, and the first thing she notices is a huge sign saying her GPS might not work. Then:
The train full of recyclables passed /
underneath me.
I like the line break here. I can sense the rumbling vibration of the train as it passes underneath her, imposing itself on her vacation. It’s one of the many things that trouble her conscience and create anxiety.
It’s a short poem but I was surprised by how much I wanted to say about it. There’s gentle irony in almost every line. Although she’s describing the Berkshires, she does so through the perspective of a city dweller. She worries about recycling, chewing, what she should eat, how she should exercise. She must be productive — "don’t waste time," she reminds herself.
She doesn’t waste time going to the movie theatre even though she went five times because it’s only a ten-minute walk away. That’s very funny and funnier still on re-reading, after you’ve seen the “don’t waste time” line. This is a poem that rewards re-reading. It doesn’t yield all its pleasures immediately.
She loses her cell phone signal when calling her therapist. But what is she doing calling her therapist on vacation? The therapy sessions add to her anxiety because of the weak signal. The refrain “Do you hear me?” is repeated by the therapist but represents all the poet’s anxiety. She wants to be heard. That’s why she writes poems. There’s gentle self-mocking humour but it’s also semi-serious. This is one of the poems that has something in common with stand-up comedy. We can relate to it.
There’s a small note of triumph when she pees into a Dunkin Donuts cup on top of the highest peak. We remember the “don’t eat carbs” mantra and there’s another joke there. Then the poem ends on a small note of hope:
Since last week, when the monarch /
butterfly was declared endangered, /
I’ve seen four of them.
I’ll single out one more poem. It’s simply called LIKE. The poet is working as a waitress and shows a customer to a table at the back. The restaurant is crowded so:
he said, “You are packing /
us in here like on slave ships,”
Offended, the poet doesn’t confront the man directly but instead shows us a number of similes that could have been used instead. It’s a confident exhibition as the images spill onto the page. At first they’re funny, inventive, unexpected. But in the second stanza the tension rises until the poem reaches an explosive climax:
… Like the flames /
in a fire, like the fingers in my fist.
Beneath the wit is deep unease, a recognition of how language can wound, and how poetry can respond. The final image is violent but the poem itself is disarming. It shows us that metaphor matters and that casual speech can offend by association with historical oppression. What we compare things to reveals our values, our blind spots, and our political awareness.
This poem reminds me of Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations. Diabelli invited composers to write a variation on his waltz. Initially dismissive of the banal theme, Beethoven wrote 33 variations in a monumental exploration of musical ideas. Sasha responds to a single offensive remark with a virtuosic display of poetic imagery. She doesn’t hit the man, she destroys him with poetry.
What a magnificent response and what a magnificent collection. Joy Is My Middle Name is witty, political, emotionally intelligent, and formally inventive. It’s a book that makes you laugh as much as it makes you think, and in doing so, begs to be heard.