The Rot is a recalcitrant study of the decaying romances, expired hopes, and abject injustices of the world. A liturgy for girlhood in the dying days of late-stage capitalism, these poems expose the fraying nerves and tendons of a speaker refusing to avert their gaze from the death of Country, death on Country, and the bloody violence of settler colonies here and afar.
Across sleepless nights, fractured alliances, and self-destructive coping strategies, The Rot is what happens when poetry swallows more rage than it can console, quiet, or ironize – this audiobook demands you ready yourself for a better world.
Evelyn Araluen is a poet and teacher researching Indigenous literatures at the University of Sydney, where she is completing her PhD. She coordinates Black Rhymes Aboriginal Poetry Nights in Redfern and is a founding member of Students Support Aboriginal Communities, a grassroots organisation based in Sydney. Born and raised in Dharug country, she is a descendant of the Bundjalung nation.
Wish everyone got a copy of this under their pillow like the tooth fairy. Some of my favourite lines/parts;
there/are many ways to name love, even more/ to consume. Stay a while, this waiting is/ safe here. I want to hear about your door.
The long discussion on Tracey Moffat and Jedda.
All the talk of sleeplessness - what it can mean when it is not just about sleep, what it feels to be awake against your own will, an allegory for political/social consciousness.
Such urgent reading. Resistance as practice. This was always meant to hurt.
Dropbear is the poetry collection of a generation so truthfully I knew this wouldn’t touch the reverence that holds for me but by fucking god no so-called ‘australian’ author is touching Evelyn Araluen. ‘Most of life is making love work, clearing space on the counter, folding back the things we’ve learnt to endure.’ So ridiculously beautiful it made me ache
If I could inject a book into my veins, it would be this.
The prose is achingly beautiful, grabs you, and holds you for the duration of this. The various forms used to express the themes in this book–ahh. I absolutely could not get enough of this. 5
5 stars The best minds of our generation are / sourcing rent from mutual aid, are / inhaling mould knowing there / will be no old age to pay it back. it's been a few years now since i read dropbear, and was fortunate enough to run into and chat with evelyn araluen the day after i finished it. since then, a lot has changed in my life, and in hers. i've graduated high school, been devastated and elated by political shifts in australia, and watched the rest of our world descend further into fascism. the latter two are true of araluen too, and this poetry collection draws on her experiences post-october 2023. the rage and hurt that we've all experienced since then are palpable in her writing.
standouts in the collection for me included Real Estate, Upfield Line, Girl Work!, (iii) 256GB OF SALVAGED MEMORY, WHAT YOU CAN DO WITH YOUR HANDS, Losing Dogs, and Glory Be The Girlypop. i think i really resonated with the poems that commented on feminism and capitalism and the way they intersect. reading this also made me really excited to reread dropbear.
i'll end my review with a quote from one of my favourite poems, which happens to mention a really frustrating occurrence on my local train line: Upfield Line service dead zones contracted by Merri-bek Labor hacks to intercept your screen time.
Evelyn Araluen is a powerhouse poet and this collection expresses rage and despair with clarity and sharpness. The final section in particular was excellent. The absolute hands down best poem title I’ve ever read is “I’m summoning Sofia Tolstoy from the bath with a spell I bought off Etsy”. The final poem “I will love” made me cry. I didn’t connect as much with this collection as I did with her previous one, Drop Bear, but this was a solid collection that I am glad to have read.
Evelyn Araluen is incredibly online. I know this not just because of all the poems in this collection about how much time she spends doomscrolling but also because this work feels incredibly rooted in the online discourse of 2024. Thus, the collection shows the inefficacy of published poetry as a platform because being published in late 2025 many of the poems already feel dated. It’s a shame because Araluen clearly has technical chops and there’s some genuinely moving parts. I wish she had taken a bit more time in writing this and let the poems stew more, and especially to become less literal. Unfortunately there are certain universalities to current forms of colonial/capitalistic oppression and I think the book could have felt more timeless and had something original to say if she expanded the example set beyond the devastation in Gaza.
Also, calling the book The Rot bothered me. Maybe it’s just the way my brain works but I feel there is something inherently moist about rotting. But the imagery in this collection is quite dry. Except for the poems in her bathroom. So the emphasis becomes about her mouldy rental (mouldy rentals being a favoured topic in The Guardian in 2024). Well, I don’t know who needs to hear this but owner-occupiers have mould too, it’s related to build quality not tenancy. We buy dehumidifiers and move on with our lives.
genius. I like everyone else loved Dropbear and dare I say The Rot is even more outstanding (personally speaking it really connected with me at this point in time). I especially loved the censoring of words like “men”. I loved all of it basically. I hope to be able to write half as well as this. But also I really appreciated how such lyricism and meaning can be drawn out from a sense of despair and questioning of everything around you, whether that be state violence, colonial violence, person-on-person violence or self-inflicted violence.
It felt both autobiographical but also like the narrator was a protagonist with a Shakespearean-like (thank you The Conversation review) characterisation navigating being a “girlypop” in a world left contending with ongoing colonial structures (you will see what I mean when you read this because its excellent).
This line, among many others, shall stay with me: “until love kills you you will love”.
Marxist female rage encapsulated perfectly in under 100 pages. I liked this, but I think listening on audio wasn't the way to go, it was difficult to follow.
The first quarter of the collection was the strongest for me personally; the anti-capitalism, radfem, gifted-kid burnout was too real! In general though, this poetry collection summed up how it feels to be a young, empathetic, socially conscious person, watching the world fall to pieces, and no one will listen to your generation nor take your concerns seriously (despite now outnumbering boomers).
i knew this collection would be incredible the moment i got to hear evelyn read out a couple poems at a keynote address a couple weeks ago. there is such an urgency to every poem in this book. poetry like this reminds me what the form is for; it is an act of resistance above all else when we are living in times like these. “most of life is making love work, clearing space on the counter, folding back the things we’ve learnt to endure.”
Complex and while I got some of the references from other readings, and attending a wonderful in person event with Araluen, I acknowledge significant parts went over my head. But some parts really stopped me in my tracks and gave me pause. She is certainly hewing her own road. Billionaire Liturgy …how to make a billion? incubate god in a crypto mine and never leave an orangutan in one piece - Real Estate …the best minds of our generation are sourcing rent from mutual aid.. Retired from sad new career in geese…Most of life is making love work, clearing space on the counter, folding back the things we’ve learnt to endure.
Reading this while reading the Essential June Jordan and thinking… would love to write something about June and Evelyn and how they both straddle love work and revolt… how they are both poets unafraid of the literal, of describing their present moment… and then I got to the final poem in this collection and it was subtitled “After June Jordan”. Gorg!
This is such a hard poetry collection to rate because it’s such an intense reading experience, and one I fear I am just not smart enough to truly appreciate.
There were some lines that absolutely flawed me. Just beautiful and raw and electric. The rage and anger in every page is palpable. The exploration of capitalism, colonialism, genocide, mental health and girlhood is on point.
I both loved and hated every moment of this, which I think means the author did something very right. I’m sure this collection will be polarising, because it’s hard and it doesn’t hold your hand gently.
A blistering book of poetry and points, from the current days of angst, anger and horror at the world. The attempts all of us make at making a difference, an impact, at standing up and being a witness.
Woven with the visceral anger that is being a woman in today's world, the bubbling rage of watching a genocide live streamed is also present, as it is on our minds.
This was a library borrow but the minute I see it in a bookstore, it will be a purchase. It was that fucking good. I had to have breaks between reading with how raw and the truly skewering nature in which Araluen weaved her words. Stunning. Outstanding. Visceral.
It’s been a long old while since I dabbled in poetry and my goodness what a book to come back to!! I would strongly recommend this to anyone searching for words to inspire renewed energy in their activism in such difficult political times. These poems both held me accountable and held me, all at once. What a collection.
This follow-up to the author’s debut poetry collection ‘Dropbear’ is equally moving and challenging, but it’s a grimmer, more rage-filled volume about the modern world’s decay. It’s ‘heavy’ stuff, but also emotionally cathartic, and ultimately calls us to reject and push against the structures and conditions that constrain us. I listened to it as an audiobook, and while it was an OK experience, I would’ve preferred print. The anger, sadness and wit in the poems came through, but I missed being able to re-read and meditate on the text. Most of the work focuses on pretty dark themes such as capitalist imperialism, the war/genocide in Gaza, environmental degradation, misogyny, violent settler colonialism and indigenous survival and resistance. I don’t have the author’s indigenous perspective, but I share a lot of her rage and grief about these issues. The poems are both personal and political. ‘The voice’ is of someone fighting insomnia and being plagued by thoughts of rage, despair and frustration at the state of the world, but refusing to be complacent. The author addresses many of the poems to “You”, creating a confrontational dialogue with the reader. She exhorts us to be agents of change, using lines such as “clean hands do no work”, and “be prepared to be the worst person at any party”. The book is a combination of poetry and prose, structured into three thematic sections. ‘Holdings’, ‘Fragments on Rotting’ and ‘Unfolding’. The earlier section resonated most with me, but all contain powerful poetry. ‘Holdings’(which sets the scene), contains poems about climate crisis, billionaires amassing huge fortunes built on “a billion bones of a billion small birds… a billion crimes”, the real-estate crisis, and the difficulties of renting, while there’s a “robot working your old job”. My favourite poem in this section was “Upfield Line”, about urban struggles and ‘train commuting’ in Melbourne, which contained lines such as “you sardine huddled in the tin you”. The war in Gaza is a constant theme, and is referenced in ‘Blood Wash’ with the unforgettable image of menstruating girls in Gaza “bleed(ing) on tent scraps”. ‘Girl Work’ presents a young girl boss who is too busy for political action . “Who has leisure time for revolution these days”? Araluen writes “Girly, there’s something rotten in your keep-cup” and challenges the girl’s complacency in continuing “to swallow the rot and your profit from it”. The section ‘Fragments on Rotting’ deals with ideas of rotting, decay, and debris, and has several prose pieces. There’s one about the death of young girls in literature, eg: Helen Burns (childhood companion to Jane Eyre) dying from a consumptive illness, “the only righteous death for a girl”! There’s another about ‘Night Cries’, a 1989 short film ‘that’s a sequel to the 1955 film ‘Jedda’. It explores the psychological toll of colonialism and assimilation that forced aboriginal children (like Jedda) to be raised by white mothers. As she cares for her frail, dying adoptive mother, Jedda experiences all the trauma, abandonment and cultural confusion of being part of the ‘stolen generations’. The final section ‘Unfolding’ deals with resistance. ‘Antidotes To Despair’ asks “what do we need to do next”? ‘Change Agent’ states “there’s no time for complacency in the age of rotting stars”. The final poem in ‘Unfolding’ is called “I Will Love”. It takes a positive stance in the face of it all, “From this rot, grow love”. The book is dedicated to “my girls, and the world you’ll make”. The author is hopeful that something productive will come out of our collective grief. Feminism is a strong focus of the book, as is the need to maintain the rage, that will enable us to fight to build a better future. I can see this poetry appealing particularly to young women, but older generations like me, will love it too.
I feel intellectually ill-equipped to describe this work in the way it deserves, it is almost an academic calibre of writing, and aspects of it definitely felt like it went over my head. However the gist of what I got out of it was not only resoundingly beautiful in its language, but deeply important to listen to in what it’s trying to talk about. This poetry collection from First Nations poet Evelyn Araluen refuses to shy away from talking about things like the violent past and present of settler colonisation in Australia, and genocide of Palestinian people in Gaza, quietly calling us out on our complicity. It also feels like a snapshot frozen in time of the right here and now, this bleak, terrifying, enraging moment in time, bearing witness to the state of the world as we watch climate crisis unfolding in real time, and ecological and social collapse, the daily struggle to cope with the effects of late-stage capitalism on the everyday person, the ongoing toll of living in a patriarchal world as a woman, while witnessing global atrocities happening at a distance, hurtling towards what feels like the end of the world. There is a despair and hopelessness to the tone throughout, and ‘rot’ indeed feels like the perfect word to describe this crumbling, decaying state of affairs, and yet there is also anger, and the existence of anger means hope, because in anger some of us are still fighting against what feels like the inevitable. Parts feel autobiographical, delving into the author’s mental health and perspective, yet this book speaks to the female experience of our modern world and the struggles of the times we are living in far more universally, giving voice to a coalescence of female rage.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Unrated due to aimlessness of self. That is to say: confusion.
I had been introduced to Araluen's work through her 2021 collection "Dropbear" earlier this year, which I thought was great and that same sentiment still goes into her newest collection "The Rot", but there is a truly great difference between my experience with both. While I could project myself out of my body, eliminate the self to understand the other with Dropbear, I cannot do that with "The Rot." Part of me wishes I could say I did not know why, but that is untrue. The reason is listed in the acknowledgements:
"In most ways this is a book for girls"
And I am just not that nor can do what I did with Dropbear. I am also just far too aimless to give what I would call a good review, I do not feel confident in my understanding of the text. I can tell the more salient -- "Billionaire Liturgy" for example -- but any fool may do that.
That being said, I am not enough of an idiot to say this isn't good. This is good poetry, I believe, and at times pulled on my emotional cords. "Losing Dogs" and "Glory Be the Girly Pop" were large highlights for me. A lot of the Poetry and Essays (or Prose Poetry, I struggle to tell the difference but I believe there are essays in there) are fantastic and well done.
Araluen is a good poet, just not for things I can really understand, and that fine. I would give it a high four if I thought I had a better grasp.