“Leah Horlick’s For Your Own Good may be the best book of poetry to come out of Canada this year.” –Michael Dennis
“Sometimes it feels as though there are Poems About Important Issues and Good Poems, and the two camps rarely meet. For Your Own Good is a startling combination of the two, skillful poems both defiant and self-aware, and close to my femme heart. We need this book.” –Zoe Whittall
In the canon of contemporary feminist and lesbian poetry, For Your Own Good breaks silence. A fictionalized autobiography, the poems in this collection illustrate the narrator’s survival of domestic and sexual violence in a lesbian relationship. There is magic in this work: the symbolism of the Tarot and the roots of Jewish heritage, but also the magic that is at the heart of transformation and survival.
These poems are acutely painful, rooted in singular and firsthand experiences. But Horlick also draws from a legacy of feminist, Jewish and lesbian writers against violence: epigraphs from the works of Adrienne Rich and Minnie Bruce Pratt act as touchstones alongside references to contemporary writers, such as Daphne Gottlieb and Michelle Tea.
In this reflection on grief, silence and community, we follow the narrator’s own journey as she explores what it is to survive, to change, to desire and to hope. At once unflinching and fragile, For Your Own Good is a collection with transformation at its heart.
REVIEWS
“‘Magic,’ which is the title of one of the poems in this collection, is a word I’d use to describe Leah Horlick’s work. Each piece takes us through a transmutation–from frightened girl to woman, from lover to abuser, from audience to performer, from alone to beloved. Horlick doesn’t back away from hard realities, deep longing or fierce desire, and drapes language around them like fitted silk–revealing and reflecting.”
–Jewelle Gomez, author of Waiting for Giovanni
‘These poems are beautiful. Solid and glittering as ice or crystal, they hold secrets and hard truths in their core. The wonder and lushness of Horlick’s voice imparts a loveliness to countless hidden tragedies, never sugaring them but bearing an elegant, whispering witness.”
–Michelle Tea, author of How to Grow Up
“Leah Horlick’s most recent collection of poetry is a beautiful rendering of grief, love and survival. This poignant poetic offering left me feeling the sensitive grace of her words long after I finished reading. The way she weaves stories into poetry is both haunting and powerful, elegant and unsettling. While reading, I had to keep reminding myself to breathe!”
–Lishai Peel, author of Why Birds and Wolves Don’t Trade Stones
Leah Horlick is a writer and poet who grew up as a settler on Treaty Six Cree Territory & the homelands of the Métis in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. Her first collection of poetry, Riot Lung (Thistledown Press, 2012), was shortlisted for a 2013 ReLit Award and a Saskatchewan Book Award. Her second collection, For Your Own Good (Caitlin Press, 2015), was named a 2016 Stonewall Honour Book by the American Library Association. She is also the author of wreckoning, a chapbook produced with Alison Roth Cooley and JackPine Press. She lived on Unceded Coast Salish Territories in Vancouver for nearly ten years, during which time she and her dear friend Estlin McPhee ran REVERB, a queer and anti-oppressive reading series. In 2016, Leah was awarded the Dayne Ogilvie Prize for LGBT Emerging Writers. In 2018, her piece "You Are My Hiding Place" was named Arc Poetry Magazine's Poem of the Year. Her next collection of poems, "Moldovan Hotel," is forthcoming from Brick Books in spring 2021. She lives on Treaty Seven Territory & Region 3 of the Métis Nation in Calgary.
For Your Own Good by Leah Horlick is full of the kind of writing that inspires superlatives. It’s one of the best books of poetry I’ve ever read, a genuinely important, incredibly powerful book that has stirred awe in a lot of readers, me included. This is not because For Your Own Good is in itself prone to any grandiose gestures or excess, but for the reason that it is truly a near-perfect, devastating collection of poetry.
I do not say devastating lightly. These poems are about an abusive lesbian relationship, violence in a supposedly safe queer space. There is plenty of triggering material: racism, colonialism, physical, sexual, and emotional abuse. But there’s a lot more than that, too...
This book breaks silence in a fall of beauty and violence. To quote Michelle Tea - these poems are beautiful, but also one of the most difficult narratives to read. Although the theme of domestic and sexual violence in a lesbian relationship is specific, I think that there's something that everyone can relate to in these words and phrases - feelings, fears and experiences that tease out our relationships to ourselves and those we love.
Leah Horlick is a defining voice in Canadian queer poetry - and is an author with the distinct ability to craft narratives across collections. Riot Lung was thought-provoking, but For Your Own Good is heart-provoking...and I look forward to seeing what will come next from Horlick.
I have a strong feeling that select poems from this collection will continue to be shared and anthologized. The voice is strong, self-possessed and also incredibly kind, which is truly apt combination when writing about survivor justice and healing.
Yes, yes, yes. A book that takes on a subject that no one else really wants to talk about (yet). Seems so many of my UBC compatriots are pushing the boundaries of what Canadian literature deems safe, and it's amazing - amazing in the way that it is dark, and painful, and hard to read, and lush, and plays with balancing violence and beauty, consent and non-consent. It's hard to laud this book because at first, you feel as if you're lauding the acts of violence and sexual assault that take place - but then you start to realise that you're actually lauding the narrator, and her emergence as a strong(er) voice, and that makes it easier to say what this book is: Beautiful.
I honestly believe this is one of the most important books of poetry to have been written in the last, oh, 50 years. It's just phenomenal. Plenty of triggering content, but so cathartic and powerful and honest and brave and beautiful. Holy smokes.
It always feels lame to describe a work as "powerful," but honestly, that's the best way to put it here. Powerful, important, necessary, and more. Horlick harnesses the power of her voice to speak about an issue (abuse within queer relationships) that isn't often discussed, even in LGBTQ communities, as well as to speak out against the racism she's experienced as a Jewish woman. But they don't feel like ~issue~ poems, if you know what I mean (not that there's anything wrong with those). They feel like someone you care about is opening up to you, trusting you with the toughest moments of their life. This is confessional poetry at its finest.
It's pretty impressive how the poems are so strong on their own, yet still combine to form such a vivid, cohesive story. I liked all the references to circuses and tarot (TRC fans, holla). And y'all know how much I love poetry that evokes the region it came from.
Some standout poems for me were "Apprentice,""Horoscope," and "Anniversary." I don't want to quote anything because I want everyone to read this collection :3
Also just want to give a quick shoutout to independent bookstores, because if I didn't visit bookstores like Powell's and Elliott Bay Book Company, both of which had great feature sections on Pacific NW authors, I never would have found this book. (Y'all know I love my B&N, but the poetry section is so, so lacking.) I wish I'd had more time to explore EBBC, but I went on the day they had the Bruce Springsteen signing, and it was a madhouse :O But yes, kudos to them for featuring local and marginalized voices.
Sharp, beautiful, painful poetry about a sexually abusive queer relationship. An important story that queers and LGBT people need to have in our archives, to help us survive.
when i read carmen machado's "in the dream house", which was life-changing, i made a list of all the sources that inspired her to write the book or had an influence on the shape her story had taken. this book was among them. while machado's book had the effect of a punch (being the first time i ever read literature about this topic), these poems somehow feel gentler, not in their content (definitely not in their content) but in the way they are expressed, as if someone was opening their heart to you and telling you, in a low but steady voice, about the things that had hurt them in the past.
i think this story of abuse and healing between women would (or should) really resonate with any lesbian -any lgbt person- and make us think. theres a very fine, sharp-edged line between the will of being seen as humans with complex inner worlds (humans who can be nice people or monsters and everything in between) and the need to survive in a given political landscape, which requires the community to be related to good things only and to put on its best face in order to be accepted by society. so many stories, so many nuances, so many lives are lost in this intersection. i bet this is true for any group of people who need to fight for their rights and i think its our duty to seek these stories and take them into our bodies. we need to learn to live with them and we need to take care of each other. as the author herself states, "we need these stories to survive".
this book is written with magic. it speaks of transfiguration, of necromancy, of invisibility, of protection and healing. i dont think theres much one could add. its short, its calm and flowing, its elegant and lonely, harrowing, controlled and confessional. really, the only thing i can tell you is to read the poems.
I've been immersed in writing about violence against women and girls all my career. I've been raped three times, which seems not very often in this chancy world (though more often, I understand, than some other people), and one of those times was by a woman I was dating. But I've barely spared a word to describe it. It's a fraught thing, writing about violence in our community, whether that be the abuse of power, battering or rape. Our rapists are certainly not held accountable, by the legal system, by society or by queer folks, either.
But here is Leah Horlick with her poetic account of violation at the hands of a woman in a book stricken with grief, but also defiance and solace. It's an important, haunting reckoning, and it is very well written. I hope you read it.
I devoured this entire collection in a single sitting, and I am completely broken inside.
This is potentially the best poetry collection I've read to date, though I'll admit that I'm still exploring poetry as a genre. But regardless, I think that this is a must read, even if you think poetry isn't your thing. This is an extremely accessible collection, since it's very narrative driven and encompasses various stages of the author's abusive relationship with her first girlfriend. It's heartbreaking and emotionally raw, but also magical and empowering.
All I can say is wow. I read this collection of poems three times over as many days. The first time around, it hit me in my gut. The second, in my heart. The third, just everywhere. The way Leah delves into the heart and soul of love and abuse with beauty and grace while maintaining the heaviness and pain of the experience is astounding. An essential read for anyone in any type queer community. We need to talk about this.
Recurring images from the Tarot structure the story of spiritual recovery from intimate partner violence in this brilliant poetry collection. Abuse in lesbian relationships remains doubly closeted by anti-gay stigma and the male-on-female abuse storyline that dominates popular culture. This book is spot-on about how that erasure works to keep lesbian victims from recognizing what is happening to them. And it's also gorgeous writing! An essential read for survivors and their advocates.
A poetic memoir that unveils a story of abuse both devastating and redemptive. Horlick's book is important because, in her own words, "the idea that a relationship between two women could be abusive...eluded me...stories of queer in-community sexual assault need to be told. We need these stories so we can build communities where we can heal. We need these stories so we can live." The poems in this slim volume are lush and powerful.
I have read collections of poems before where their is a cohesive narrative and (seemingly) consistent speaker before. However, few have gripped me in the same way that "For Your Own Good" did.
This is another book I have felt mild shame about having not read before, but it was clear after finishing it that I was not ready until now. The word choice in this book is judicious and the result are poems where I felt I could visualize emotions as strongly as I could the imagery being described.
This book is as necessary as it is beautiful. Brave, powerful, and astonishingly well-crafted, the poems carry you forward with an urgent narrative momentum that will leave you winded, and a bit haunted, in the best of ways.
This book is so brilliant I am bringing the writer to my university to read to my class. Prescient, scary, sad writing. And then oh so strong and brave. Lovely poems that'll hurt your heart.
I don’t read a lot of poetry, but some of the pieces in this collection really stood out. “The Circus” and “The Sun” were the two that spoke to me most.
I have sworn to myself a life of people who know when to stop. I promised—
and spent my first night in the new apartment drawing circles in salt and rain, whispering
to my old self, come here. I built this for you. I promised.
this was a very difficult read but a hugely necessary one, as is discussed in the author's conclusion note at the end. be aware if picking this collection up of its discussion of racism, rape, and abuse. this collection yanks the reader through the beginning, middle, end, aftermath, and healing of an abusive lesbian relationship and it's incredible what it accomplishes in such a short number of pages. incredibly devastating, powerful, and crucial reading.
Originally picked this up because the poem “Ghost House” had been featured in “In the Dream House” by Carmen Maria Machado. It was a beautiful collection, touched on the awful conditions faced by the author in a very delicate way
I first read this in March 2021 & just re-read it in February 2024. Remains a powerful, piercing, necessary read that has influenced and empowered me, similar to In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. I especially enjoyed the Tarot inspired/associated poems. Horlick’s craft is impeccable. Highly recommend.
Stunnjng language — atmospheric, cutting, purposeful, careful. Tonally perfect. Narrative arc across the poems is brilliantly rendered. Ordering and pacing of poems is fckn genius.
Painfully beautiful. A story of strength and violence, being robbed of agency, and silenced by her own community. This is a book about sexual assault, and the times after, the life before, between, and since. It's gorgeous, and tough, and teeth, and nail. This book will stay with me.