What is important is to avoidthe time allotted for disavowelsas the livid woundleaves a trace leaves an abscesstakes its contraction for those cloudsthat dip thunder & vanishlike rose leaves in closed jars.Age approaches, slowly. But it cannotcrystal bone into thin air.The small hours open their wounds for me.This is a woman's keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me.
Simone Muench is the author of Orange Crush, Lampblack & Ash, The Air Lost in Breathing, and Disappearing Address. She teaches at Lewis University in Chicago, Illinois.
Simone Muench was raised in Benson, Louisiana and Combs, Arkansas. She is the author of five full-length collections including Lampblack & Ash (Sarabande, 2005), Orange Crush (Sarabande, 2010), and Wolf Centos (Sarabande, August, 2014). Her most recent chapbook Trace received the Black River Award (Black Lawrence Press, 2014). Some of her honors include an NEA fellowship, Illinois Arts Council fellowships, Marianne Moore Prize for Poetry, Kathryn A. Morton Prize for Poetry, PSA’s Bright Lights/Big Verse Contest, and residency fellowships to Yaddo, Artsmith, and VSC. She received her Ph.D from UIC, and is Professor of English at Lewis University where she serves as chief faculty advisor for Jet Fuel Review. Collaborative sonnets, written with Dean Rader, are forthcoming in The American Poetry Review, New American Writing, Zyzzyva, Blackbird, and others.
This was my pick for July 2014 for the Rumpus Poetry Book Club. Some fragments from my mini-review of the book:
The centos echo each other, particular images and words cropping up again and again in the poems so often that they begin to form a fugue--both in the musical sense, with the development and interweaving of phrases and subjects, and in the psychological sense, as the poems repeatedly play with notions of loss of identity and flight into unfamiliar landscapes.
Both the loss of self and the sense of strangeness are evoked through the vast variety in the sources from which the poems draw. I didn't count, but I'd guess Muench pulls fragments from at least 150 different poets writing in a wide array of languages and eras. The cento form itself dismantles certain ideas about ownership and authority--as Muench writes, "I learned / in the notebook lined by you, tree / & by you, sentence / that nothing was mine." By including such a range of times and tongues, the form also functions as an ark, an archive, a craft that preserves words, as Marianne Moore said, like a "collection of flies in amber."
In Muench's book, these collections are part mourning, part memorial, part exhumation or even resurrection. As human and wolf mingle in the poems--the book is filled with ambiguous bones and tongues and ears, but also distinctly animal muzzles and paws and fangs--the centos reminded me of Dario Robleto's explorations of death, loss, and survival. Like his artwork, Wolf Centos is all about the materials: in both, fragments of the past are assembled and arranged to help us think about what persists beyond the end of any individual life.
I recently learned what a cento is, so I don’t have a lot of experience with reading them. That being said, I absolutely loved how each poem seemed like its own creation, and each line seemed like her own. Nothing felt awkward or out of place or unnatural. She has done an incredible job sewing together these lines.
Each poem itself evokes a sort of earthy, primitive feel. After reading each poem, something moved deep within me - almost a reverential experience. If I could give this collection more than 5 stars, I would.
One of my favorite books of poems in a long while. These centos feel so natural. They make a fable-world of wolves & bonds & transformations. Every line was beautiful
Amazing collection of poems that really capitalizes on the cento form. Imagistically taut without relying too heavily on narrative--haunting, beautiful. Muench's attention to line and the surprising muscularity of her verse catapulted me through this volume. Will probably continue to influence my work in the years to come.
Simone Muench's "The Wolf Centos" is a haunting and atmospheric collection of poetry that takes inspiration from the mythic figure of the wolf. The collection is composed entirely of centos, a form of poetry that is created by piecing together lines from other poems, and Muench's use of this form creates a sense of collage and assemblage that is highly effective.
The poems in "The Wolf Centos" are characterized by their richly evocative imagery and their use of language that is both lyrical and visceral. Muench creates a world that is at once dreamlike and gritty, and her use of the wolf as a recurring image is highly effective in conveying a sense of danger, wildness, and transformation.
One of the most striking features of this collection is Muench's use of intertextuality, drawing on a wide range of literary sources that include poetry, philosophy, and folklore. This creates a sense of depth and richness that is highly engaging and adds another layer of meaning to the poems.
The collection is divided into three sections, each of which explores a different aspect of the wolf's mythology. The first section focuses on the wolf as a symbol of danger and ferocity, while the second section explores the transformative power of the wolf. The final section, "The Bitch's Lament," is a series of poems that focus on the female experience, using the wolf as a symbol of strength and resilience.
Overall, "The Wolf Centos" is a highly accomplished and immersive collection of poetry that is sure to appeal to fans of mythic and magical realist writing. Muench's language is both beautiful and unsettling, and her use of the cento form is highly effective in creating a sense of collage and assemblage. This is a must-read for anyone who is interested in poetry that is both imaginative and deeply rooted in the rich tradition of myth and folklore.
An undercurrent of lycanthropy; what is lost in transition - what is gained - and what price is ultimately paid. There is a feeling of loss here: as if disassociation with all that we hold close is constantly being 'clawed' away. Simone Muench does a masterful job of transporting us into that primordial forest that calls to us in dreams.
A very interesting collection, I have some mixed feelings. The main themes Muench explores are done so very much in depth, with a focus on the same imagery in nearly every poem. On one hand this is fascinating and allows for some beautiful images and digs into the topics. On the other I feel some themes could have either been left out or needed to be gone into deeper.
In the mists of the wolfpacks A voice answered back: you don't have to be human. To take the wrong road is to arrive between chaos & star in your luminous body's bay where you taste every horizon.
Simone Muench’s Wolf Centos is a collection stitched together of dense, fugue-like poems that manage to steal maintain a concise and vivid language. This would be a feat in and of itself, but Muench does this without her own words. These poems being Centos, they are composed of lines maintained by motifs of mourning, loss, and, of course, wolves. The sources for her quilts of very come from Dylan Thomas, William Shakespeare, Anna Akhmatova, W.B. Yeats, and one would expect lines that were very familiar. Yet Muench’s real generative gift is in making what should be familiar even more muscular, more strange. These poems are not mere pastiches or homages, but uniquely their own: frankenstein’s wolves.
Muench does not hide her sources either though, each scrap can be made distinct. The wolf motif functions both as a point of coherence for the collection but also a figure of dark transformation. Muench then summons her wolves to contrast the wild and domestic, the remembered and the real. When a poem’s narrator says: I have lost my being in so many beings: travelers passing by night, the great wolf who goes wounded & bleeding through the snows.
One sees somewhat clearly how the wolf functions: both apparition and wounded animal. The dissolution of singular narrative voice as well as the embodiment of a unitary vision behind such a polyphonic voice.
These poems imply a narrative development but do not articulate one. One feels like this is more than a limitation of the Cento, but a thematic conceit to the collection. A truly haunting book in its own way.
Wolf Centos is clearly a very labor-intensive book. Muench said she began by highlighting lines she liked in all her poetry books, those lines becoming a sort of database for these centos--poems collaged from other poems--each of which features a literal or metaphorical wolf.
For a book created so tediously, I felt guilty for reading it all at once, but I couldn't stop! The way Muench put the lines together from a huge mix of other writers is simply masterful. I keep going back to reread and to take inspiration for the graceful, surprising ways these lines relate to one another.