'Postcards from Here' is a capturing of a community, a harsh and beautiful place, a family, and the internal experience of its author in the form of micro-essays. The book takes on the realities of rural New England life, the moments and details that stitch a community together, the politics of being gay and divorced in such a place, and the visceral details of raising children, gardening, porcupines, travel, marriage, and other hazards of living. Written in a coastal community at the eastern edge of the United States, this book works to transcend the Maine depicted on touristy postcards by crafting missives its rural residents might really send—what true stories this place and its people have to tell. The individual pieces in 'Postcards' tell stories that are both intensely personal and entirely communal in scope, and as a collection they create a portrait of one person’s attempt to do a good job at this business of being human.
For me, the power of vignettes in writing memoir is that this is how we often talk about our lives—reporting on a conversation, telling the story of a moment, describing a particular day. Guisinger has used her talent as a writer to make good use of this inherent power of the short form by grabbing up pieces of her life and creating art of them. This book is a collection of jewels.
"Postcards From Here" by award winning poet/essayist Penney Guisinger, is the story of her life in the rural region tip of eastern Maine. Guisingers work has been published in several notable independent and commercial publications, she is a graduate of the low residency Stonecoast MFA Writing Program in Portland, Maine.
In writing about the harshness of the freezing winter weather, the heavy snowfall there is still much warmth in Guisinger's close family life. Although she needs solitude to write she finds much contentment as a wife in her same sex marriage, her two children and a rich rewarding connection with the changing seasons, elements of nature, and the uncomplicated expression and rhythm of ordinary life. There are references to problems involving differences with Guisingers former husband and their children, alcoholism, and lack of money and resources. There are no shocking or sensational revelations, it isn't necessary considering this slim volume of thoughtful well written memoir vignettes. Great book cover too:)
I love vignettes--House On Mango Street and We, the Animals are two of my favorites--but this never came together as a narrative for me. Although the sentences were beautiful and I get some stunning glimpses into the narrator's life, the way it all came together really missed the mark for me.
I saw Penny Guisinger at a reading at a small brewery sponsored by Sundress. The brewery was tricky to find, but the effort led me to this remarkable chapbook, and I say chapbook, even though it was published by Vine Leaves Literary Journal, which seems to specialize in vignettes--scenes. I think of these as prose poems with a twist.
From the first minute Penny Guisinger opened her mouth to read, I was spellbound. This tiny book of vignettes/poetry is one of the finest I've seen. Each word is a pick up truck, the bed heaped with things I've moved from one home to the next. I can identify with each sement. I want to meet Guisinger in the little shop downtown on Friday mornings for coffee. Whatever she writes, I want to read.
One of the vignettes begins: "My kids don't believe me, but we're going to the farm to sing to the cows. 'They love it,' the farmer tells us." I can't wait for the next line.
Postcards from Here. What a joy to find in my mailbox. This little book I will carry in my purse, put on my nightstand, read again and again. If there were 6 stars, I'd give them to this book.
This is the cutest little book full of postcard-sized essays. They’re a real blend of poetry and prose, telling the story of the author’s life in the small happenings and significant details. We read about a group singing Christmas carols to cows, baking cake with an 8-year-old, capturing porcupines in a trash can, shopping with old people, and more. Each piece is a little gem. I can’t say that I love them all or understand them all, but I enjoyed my trip through the jewelry box and expect that every time I read these pieces, I will find something new.
Beautiful, lyrical, made me cry several times, made me jealous that I don't have the same level gift for capturing the moment and emotions so beautifully, lyrically. So much truth and beauty packed into such a tiny little book and so many little vignettes. LOVED IT!
Perhaps because the “here” is some ways adjacent to my own “here,” and perhaps because these vignettes are thoughtful and bright with fresh language and a mellow way of seeing, “Postcards from Here” is a good one.
I thoroughly enjoyed this collection of vignettes, validating the art of observation and the insight gained from paying attention to detail, to everything, from the “plummy earthy fruit of the eggplant” to “shopping with old people.” Penny’s writing captures what it means to be human, bridging that subtle space between what we see on the outside and that which resonates deep inside of us at some point in our lives. Each vignette, reflective and poignant, captures the significance of being a witness to life itself and is a reminder of the importance of listening to the inner voice of enquiry that resides within us all, but only when we take the time to sit with ourselves and feel deeply into our own story. Her words are a reminder that this is one approach to understanding the joy, sadness, uncertainty and hope that weaves its way into everyday life.
POSTCARDS FROM HERE is the most original book I've read since Sandra Gail Lambert's THE RIVER"S MEMORY. In sharp bursts of brilliant prose, Guisinger moves from one closely observed event to another. It's the movement that makes this book so original: these self-contained micro-essays are not in chronological order, and there's no overt plot, but the language itself pulls you along compulsively. I literally couldn't put it down.
The bonus here is a profoundly intimate look at life in Downeast Maine, a landscape that has been romanticized almost to death. Guisinger's deep connection with the land, the people, and the culture will resonate with anyone who has loved the Maine coastlines, towns, and forests.
Guisinger's prose is as stunning as it is spare. This book--made up entirely of short lyric essays that distill her life in rural Maine down to its essence--is like getting to spend a quiet afternoon with the smartest, most interesting person you know. It's deeply intimate, but it goes so deep into that intimacy that it comes back around to the universal: love, community, parenting, marriage. The things that make up much of everyone's life.
Each postcard in Penny Guisinger's "Postcards from Here" is a gem of a micro essay with a pearl inside, revealed as a particular unique, heartfelt, or surprising turn of phrase: “This home accepts and creates warmth—sort of the way good luck invites more good luck—a momentum of light.” Guinsinger’s prose is honest and vulnerable. We should all be so lucky to receive a postcard from her; luckily, we do in this tender, heartfelt book.
A format I didn't existed, these memoir moments are little treasures. Author experiences passed to the reader to share in the things that make up life; daily experiences - some simple and others not.
I must have read this deceptively tiny book five times now, trying to puzzle out the secrets of Penny Guisinger's magical sentences. To change one word is to destroy perfection.
This small book is structured through one page flash nonfiction memoir pieces. Guisinger shows what it is like to live in a lesbian family in rural Maine in the early 21st century. The images are beautiful. I couldn’t find a key to the order of the pieces except to see love deepening through the book. What is gleaned from the reading rises slowly and silently as an object climbs to the lake surface.