In Sarah Vap's poetry book "Viability" she braids themes: economic through stock market and investing terms, slavery—both in America's history, and in Thailand's fishing industry, child birth, and misquotes she creates of John of the Cross. This commentary is educational, profound and layered with warnings about our viability as a species, hence the title. The final line at the end in from the last John of the Cross misquote, "You will become dead." Such a fitting ending to this spectacular book.
I did not know rich women had their own stock indexes: Angelina Jolie, Eva Longoria, Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Jennifer Lopez. I had not heard of the Lady Godiva Accounting Principles (LGAP), but I had heard the Skirt Length Theory as a predictor of the stock market direction.
This book is a series of prose poems that also includes daydreams. There is humor, facts, gross reality, making us question our reality. On a particular poignant page she lists the steps for how slave owners calculated value from a "field wench." This is not easy reading, but it shows the place of women economicaly and gives us a way to look at our value system.
Here is one of her John of the Cross misquotes:
"Where there is no love, put infants in Table 2. Put angels in
Table 1. Where there is no love, put the best average. Where
there is no love, put infants in most of the important slave
markets. Where there is no love, where there are no angels, put
infants or put no infants—and there you will find no love.
There is some increase in infant radiance.
And, the opening prose poem:
"The splintered log filled me mouth to groin. And growing—
growing, the emerald was blood. The stones in the water were
eyes and I was not recognized by either the givings or the
killings that will make a woman a mother, that will make a
mother a moon dropped to the water and carving out her own
eye. Our family was afraid for itself until we were worn. And
became, at evening's porcelain quality, like even the dead dog's
bones, silent and white. The infant and the carriage, frozen
below the firepond—they held themselves, were alone. We
looked down at them through the thick ice while they ripped him
from me in the single, performed loneliness."
I am lucky to have heard Sarah Vap read once at Open Books in Seattle.