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You Can't Pick Your Genre
The poems in Emily O'Neill's You Can't Pick Your Genre endure. They riot. These poems are shining echoes from the Scream film series, but they are also warnings, testimonials, declarations. Emily O'Neill tells us, "Watch how practiced / you are, letting him practice desire on your disinterest." O'Neill re-renders the split-open bodies of women in horror films as testimonials of survival. Each poem is a reclamation, a rebirth, pulling the audience through the horror of how it feels to be acted upon as an object at a story's center. Each howling voice tells the reader, I am still here and I can never be killed.
62 pages, Paperback
First published April 5, 2016
52 people want to read
About the author
Emily O'Neill
24 books31 followersEmily O'Neill is an artist, writer, and proud Jersey girl. New poems are forthcoming in The Journal, Minnesota Review, Redivider, and Washington Square, among others. Her poem "de Los Muertos" was selected by Jericho Brown as the winner of Gigantic Sequins' second annual poetry contest.She holds a degree in the synesthesia of storytelling from Hampshire College and teaches creative writing courses at the Boston Center For Adult Education.
Her debut collection, Pelican, is the inaugural winner of the Pamet River Book Prize, awarded by Yes Yes Books to first collections from female-identified and gender queer poets, and is available now. She lives in Medford, MA with two brilliant Feral Bitch writers and the inimitable Roger Mindfucker.
Her debut collection, Pelican, is the inaugural winner of the Pamet River Book Prize, awarded by Yes Yes Books to first collections from female-identified and gender queer poets, and is available now. She lives in Medford, MA with two brilliant Feral Bitch writers and the inimitable Roger Mindfucker.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
January 21, 2018
This is a neat, important look at the violence of women compared against the backdrop of slasher films. O'Neill's lines are great, and the message is one that will ring true to all survivors.
December 8, 2017
Emily O’Neill uses the imagery of slasher films to tackle the topic of violence against women and survival.
This collection of poetry begins with a strong statement: how girls are often treated like objects early in their romantic and sexual relationships. Each subsequent poem builds on that idea until the reader is immersed in the world of horror films.
O’Neill starts strong with one of the best dedications I’ve seen in a while, “for every survivor, every feral bitch.” The first poem is a real portrayal of the objectification that begins in seemingly small ways but can progress quickly. There are some truly powerful lines in this one, that I have to share.
from “You See What You Do To Me”
That’s quite a statement and that’s just the first page. From there, O’Neill takes the reader to even darker places, the scenes of slasher movies and the objectification there:
from “I’m Not Happy I Have to Die Naked”
If I’m being completely honest, several of the poems are a little over my head. I may need to start reading a little more poetry to get all of this. When returning to it for this review, I found more that I liked so I might save it on my shelf for future reading. I’ll leave off with my own evaluation with this last quote I loved:
from “Neighborhood Watch, ACT THREE”
A quick note: I read this collection while reading Men Explain Things to Me (which is mostly about sexual assault and violence against women) and while watching Mindhunter (which is about serial killers who mostly rape and kill women). Some of the things I read into this collection might be due to that, but I think the parallels to violence against women are just present on the page. I just thought that was worth mentioning. There was some heavy stuff on my mind for a week or so due to all of this.
This collection of poetry begins with a strong statement: how girls are often treated like objects early in their romantic and sexual relationships. Each subsequent poem builds on that idea until the reader is immersed in the world of horror films.
O’Neill starts strong with one of the best dedications I’ve seen in a while, “for every survivor, every feral bitch.” The first poem is a real portrayal of the objectification that begins in seemingly small ways but can progress quickly. There are some truly powerful lines in this one, that I have to share.
Watch how practiced / you are, letting him practice desire on your disinterest. / There’s power here. Look away. He’s still looking at you, wanting / refusal so he can push until this win. You’re someone so long / as he wants you to be. He’s someone so long as you let him / have what he won’t ask for. Make him feel like he stole it.
from “You See What You Do To Me”
That’s quite a statement and that’s just the first page. From there, O’Neill takes the reader to even darker places, the scenes of slasher movies and the objectification there:
You can see the ending / shot through a prism & in every fold of glass / she’s meat, right? Plenty more where she came from. / A whole stable of blondes rolling their eyes / at every rewrite, but we’ll recast them too. / Just need breasts to heave convincingly. Death kicks / down the bathroom door wild as an axed Jack Nicholson.
from “I’m Not Happy I Have to Die Naked”
If I’m being completely honest, several of the poems are a little over my head. I may need to start reading a little more poetry to get all of this. When returning to it for this review, I found more that I liked so I might save it on my shelf for future reading. I’ll leave off with my own evaluation with this last quote I loved:
The horror doesn’t live in the harm / done to the ones dying. The horror lives / in how fear emerges from a secure chrysalis.
from “Neighborhood Watch, ACT THREE”
A quick note: I read this collection while reading Men Explain Things to Me (which is mostly about sexual assault and violence against women) and while watching Mindhunter (which is about serial killers who mostly rape and kill women). Some of the things I read into this collection might be due to that, but I think the parallels to violence against women are just present on the page. I just thought that was worth mentioning. There was some heavy stuff on my mind for a week or so due to all of this.
August 3, 2019
"Begin with death solidly buried / in subtext." Text and subtext are equally rich in this volume. I want to go back and pull epigraphs for reviews of horror films. In 18 poems, O'Neill creates a little world that hits that sweet spot where the poems cohere in a way and yet feel varied other ways. (Mystery: there are poems in the Acknowledgments that aren't in this edition, like "Do You Wish to Give Up Your Right to Remain Silent," which sounds pretty interesting!)
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews