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Reaper
" Reaper knocked me flat with its utter breathlessness. . . . McDonough paints a stark picture of a soulless tomorrow ruled by the technologies of convenience―a tomorrow we just might stop if we could."―Patricia Smith These dark, straightforward poems showcase the power of technology by painting a vivid picture of America's expanding drone program and the havoc we wreak―and then ignore―around the globe. McDonough offers the past, present, and future as non-linear timelines, and explores how the intersection between man and machine is starting to blur, and how we're losing qualities essential to being human. From "My Sister Wants to Buy My Dad a Drone For Father's Day":
What a pain
in the ass to have a sister like me,
who won't just fork over her share
of the dough. Who has to feel dumb
ways about things, distracted by names
like DarkStar, Scan Eagle, Shadow,
Wasp Block. Who doesn't want a toy
airplane with a camera? My dad is not going
to shoot suspected insurgents, hover
over his neighbors' homes for days.
Technology is fungible. Also
really cool. Drones don't kill people,
people et cetera. People drown
in water. But I still want to drink it.
Jill McDonough is the winner of a 2014 Lannan Literary Fellowship and three Pushcart prizes. She's received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Fine Arts Work Center, the New York Public Library, the Library of Congress, and Stanford's Stegner program, and taught incarcerated college students through Boston University's Prison Education Program for thirteen years. Her work has appeared in Poetry, Slate, The Nation, The Threepenny Review , and Best American Poetry . She directs the MFA program at UMass-Boston and 24PearlStreet, the Fine Arts Work Center online.
What a pain
in the ass to have a sister like me,
who won't just fork over her share
of the dough. Who has to feel dumb
ways about things, distracted by names
like DarkStar, Scan Eagle, Shadow,
Wasp Block. Who doesn't want a toy
airplane with a camera? My dad is not going
to shoot suspected insurgents, hover
over his neighbors' homes for days.
Technology is fungible. Also
really cool. Drones don't kill people,
people et cetera. People drown
in water. But I still want to drink it.
Jill McDonough is the winner of a 2014 Lannan Literary Fellowship and three Pushcart prizes. She's received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Fine Arts Work Center, the New York Public Library, the Library of Congress, and Stanford's Stegner program, and taught incarcerated college students through Boston University's Prison Education Program for thirteen years. Her work has appeared in Poetry, Slate, The Nation, The Threepenny Review , and Best American Poetry . She directs the MFA program at UMass-Boston and 24PearlStreet, the Fine Arts Work Center online.
- GenresPoetry
63 pages, Paperback
First published April 11, 2017
1 person is currently reading
54 people want to read
About the author
Jill McDonough
8 books17 followersJill McDonough has lived in North Carolina, Maine, and Japan, as well as San Francisco, Boston, and New York. She attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill before graduating from Stanford University with a bachelor of arts in English. She received a master’s degree in Creative Writing, Poetry, from Boston University.
A long-time teacher with Boston University’s Prison Education Program, she teaches college-level courses in prisons around Boston.
Her poems have appeared in The Threepenny Review, The New Republic, Slate and elsewhere. The recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Fine Arts Work Center, she was also recently a Stegner Fellow at Stanford University.
A long-time teacher with Boston University’s Prison Education Program, she teaches college-level courses in prisons around Boston.
Her poems have appeared in The Threepenny Review, The New Republic, Slate and elsewhere. The recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Fine Arts Work Center, she was also recently a Stegner Fellow at Stanford University.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
February 3, 2018
McDonough turns a journalistic sensibility toward technology--robots, drones, 3D printers, smartphones--and toward its human makers and users. What I loved best about the book is how she looks on these objects with both wonder and fear, marveling at their beauty and revealing their terrible capacities. McDonough demonstrates time and again that it's not technology that's violent, but the human agency that puts it to work. She gets at this most succinctly in "My Sister Wants to Buy My Dad a Drone for Father's Day":
McDonough also calls our attention to naming, how our human intent is revealed in what we call our new creations: Switchblade, Predator, Reaper, or Glib Lapwing, Necessary Ant, Chubby Dog.
The title poem and "I Dream We Try Gun"--a poem in which gun manufacturers are put on trial and every gun death is undone--are particularly haunting. The series of villanelles about drone use by the military--often in the voice of a drone pilot--are skillful and striking for the way in which the form highlights the shift-work involved in piloting, the repetition of war, the insistence and persistence of drones surveilling and destroying.
Technology is fungible. Also
really cool. Drones don't kill people,
people et cetera. People drown
in water. But I still want to drink it.
McDonough also calls our attention to naming, how our human intent is revealed in what we call our new creations: Switchblade, Predator, Reaper, or Glib Lapwing, Necessary Ant, Chubby Dog.
The title poem and "I Dream We Try Gun"--a poem in which gun manufacturers are put on trial and every gun death is undone--are particularly haunting. The series of villanelles about drone use by the military--often in the voice of a drone pilot--are skillful and striking for the way in which the form highlights the shift-work involved in piloting, the repetition of war, the insistence and persistence of drones surveilling and destroying.
August 29, 2018
Wouldn’t have expected a poetry collection about drones and drone warfare from someone not affiliated with the military simply because it’s a relatively obscure way to fight a war but with their prevalence in the news…it seems like just as good a topic as any. McDonough did her research and filled this collection with some powerful poems. Enjoyed it. My faves were: Arches National Park, Twelve-Hour Shifts, & Times Square.
August 20, 2017
Jill McDonough’s book of poetry Reaper is written at a desperate time for humanity. We currently face the threats of overpopulation, pollution and global warming, all of which highlight questions of control and technology. McDonough brings awareness to these issues while at the same time providing a hope for the future.
McDonough predicts that the loss of our humanity, nature, and the loss of human nature – the loss of the self – will all be, in part, due to the rise of technology. We, as a species, are becoming numb to our own desires, “wanting … wanting” (10). People are now content to be “distracted” (16), brainwashed, in a sense, numb to life. We take for granted the little things, things that don’t require technology, like emotions, feelings, or experiences; the more we allow technology to rule our loves, the more we are lose our true selves.
An overarching sense of “fear” (9) seems to govern McDonough’s poetry collection: a fear of consumerism; fear of over-consumption; a fear of technology overtaking humans; a fear of the “future” (18) governed/ruled by technology.
McDonough understands that we “cant govern crap” (4), referring to the fact that technology functions on its own, recognizing that awareness to these issues is whats required in order to understand and reverse the dangerous effects of technological control. McDonough heavily opposes this idea of a “man-made future” (3), categorizing technology as “baggage, lugged as grocery[s]” (7).
If you’re looking for political poetry, stop right here. Jill McDonough’sReaper zooms in on America’s expanding drone program and the ever-blurring line of man and machine. McDonough examines the distancing of culpability and repercussions when there’s a computer screen and a continent between you and the dead. This is not a happy book; it’s a book to make you think, to shine a light on the darker side of American politics, and the warfare we often pretend isn’t happening. She swaps out flowery imagery for repetition of sparse, to-the point poetry that hammers home her message. McDonough’s writing is gritty and unapologetic, refusing to let even the reader off the hook. It never feels like an attack, though. Instead, McDonough is simply insisting that we look at the whole picture, not just the pretty, easy parts.
The table of contents can be read as one long foreboding poem in itself, foreshadowing the themes of technology, death, war, and loss that are to come. At the same time McDonough’s poetry aggravates feelings of nostalgia, reminescent of “back in the day” (14). The “old fashioned” (22) and “forgotton” memories become an anti-theme, juxtaposing our current state of technological control by highlighting memories of the way it once was.
Using modern cultural references such as “iPhone, facebook” (3), “YouTube” (8), and “Twitter” (10), McDonough captures the lighthearted side of technology while simultaneously alluding to the darker side of technology, such as the use of robots as weapons. She knows that “Software Perception, Control Systems” (3) that promote a “follow the leader” (3) lifestyle are dangerous, and wants readers to know it, too. We must not allow ourselves to be led, if we lose our sense of individuality, or ability to think for ourselves, we will lose the future.
“lost our agency .. because of daily technology. We’re so distracted by the decadence available to us—or, for more of us, the fifteen jobs we have to work, the struggles with our insurance companies, finding a ride to the private prison where our family members are held —that we can’t keep track of all the wars being fought in our names. With our taxes. We’ve lost our agency because so many people in power benefit from our ignorance.”
McDonough’s criticism of technology functions as a warning: we will “reap what we sow” (5). McDonough wants us to know of the harsh realities and severe consequences we will face if we allow the irreversible damage of technology to take control over our lives. She knows that once we fully submit to computers, we “cant make them go away” (23).
We are allowing this to happen. It is our own fault. We have become so “distracted by shine” (4) that we do not want to admit that the shine is, in fact, our problem. Technology is not the solution; we are the solution. We, as a species, should ulitize technology without allowing it to take charge of us, to control us, brainwash us, numb us, desensitize us, or distract us. We must act.
McDonough predicts that the loss of our humanity, nature, and the loss of human nature – the loss of the self – will all be, in part, due to the rise of technology. We, as a species, are becoming numb to our own desires, “wanting … wanting” (10). People are now content to be “distracted” (16), brainwashed, in a sense, numb to life. We take for granted the little things, things that don’t require technology, like emotions, feelings, or experiences; the more we allow technology to rule our loves, the more we are lose our true selves.
An overarching sense of “fear” (9) seems to govern McDonough’s poetry collection: a fear of consumerism; fear of over-consumption; a fear of technology overtaking humans; a fear of the “future” (18) governed/ruled by technology.
McDonough understands that we “cant govern crap” (4), referring to the fact that technology functions on its own, recognizing that awareness to these issues is whats required in order to understand and reverse the dangerous effects of technological control. McDonough heavily opposes this idea of a “man-made future” (3), categorizing technology as “baggage, lugged as grocery[s]” (7).
If you’re looking for political poetry, stop right here. Jill McDonough’sReaper zooms in on America’s expanding drone program and the ever-blurring line of man and machine. McDonough examines the distancing of culpability and repercussions when there’s a computer screen and a continent between you and the dead. This is not a happy book; it’s a book to make you think, to shine a light on the darker side of American politics, and the warfare we often pretend isn’t happening. She swaps out flowery imagery for repetition of sparse, to-the point poetry that hammers home her message. McDonough’s writing is gritty and unapologetic, refusing to let even the reader off the hook. It never feels like an attack, though. Instead, McDonough is simply insisting that we look at the whole picture, not just the pretty, easy parts.
The table of contents can be read as one long foreboding poem in itself, foreshadowing the themes of technology, death, war, and loss that are to come. At the same time McDonough’s poetry aggravates feelings of nostalgia, reminescent of “back in the day” (14). The “old fashioned” (22) and “forgotton” memories become an anti-theme, juxtaposing our current state of technological control by highlighting memories of the way it once was.
Using modern cultural references such as “iPhone, facebook” (3), “YouTube” (8), and “Twitter” (10), McDonough captures the lighthearted side of technology while simultaneously alluding to the darker side of technology, such as the use of robots as weapons. She knows that “Software Perception, Control Systems” (3) that promote a “follow the leader” (3) lifestyle are dangerous, and wants readers to know it, too. We must not allow ourselves to be led, if we lose our sense of individuality, or ability to think for ourselves, we will lose the future.
“lost our agency .. because of daily technology. We’re so distracted by the decadence available to us—or, for more of us, the fifteen jobs we have to work, the struggles with our insurance companies, finding a ride to the private prison where our family members are held —that we can’t keep track of all the wars being fought in our names. With our taxes. We’ve lost our agency because so many people in power benefit from our ignorance.”
McDonough’s criticism of technology functions as a warning: we will “reap what we sow” (5). McDonough wants us to know of the harsh realities and severe consequences we will face if we allow the irreversible damage of technology to take control over our lives. She knows that once we fully submit to computers, we “cant make them go away” (23).
We are allowing this to happen. It is our own fault. We have become so “distracted by shine” (4) that we do not want to admit that the shine is, in fact, our problem. Technology is not the solution; we are the solution. We, as a species, should ulitize technology without allowing it to take charge of us, to control us, brainwash us, numb us, desensitize us, or distract us. We must act.
May 17, 2018
This book is a bit uneven. Some of the poems are really good, surprising in the right ways, conversational yet imaginative and investigative, and grounded in interesting and familiar aspects of our modern world. Other poems are less inventive and engaging with their subjects and themes, the same topics and images come up a lot without enough new stuff being added.
The poet is definitely skilled and this book is worth a read, but I imagine they are capable of putting together a stronger collection. I just stumbled across this work, so I look forward to seeking more out.
The poet is definitely skilled and this book is worth a read, but I imagine they are capable of putting together a stronger collection. I just stumbled across this work, so I look forward to seeking more out.
December 9, 2017
Poems about robots, bombs, drones, with a bit of randomness to round out the collection. Not much impressed me. The anti-war cliches got tired years ago. Let them sleep.
Favorites:
"Bad Decisions" - a short, simple piece
"The Money" - a mural at Goldman Sachs, New York City
You can tell a secret in a poem and it will stay a secret
forever. No one reads poems except for me and you.
Favorites:
"Bad Decisions" - a short, simple piece
"The Money" - a mural at Goldman Sachs, New York City
You can tell a secret in a poem and it will stay a secret
forever. No one reads poems except for me and you.
November 16, 2018
Really strong imagery and beautiful poems about subjects you don't expect a woman to write about - robots, war, futurism. I really enjoyed 85% of these and didn't get the rest but that's par for the course for most poetry and me.
February 4, 2018
Brilliant and horrifying, I couldn't put it down.
January 21, 2025
Read this all in one sitting. A heartbreaking collection of poems on war, war technology, and US imperialism that has only gotten more relevant since 2017. God damn Jill you’ve done it again
May 9, 2017
https://thewandererliteraryjournal.wo...
Jill McDonough’s book of poetry Reaper is written at a desperate time for humanity. We currently face the threats of overpopulation, pollution and global warming, all of which highlight questions of control and technology. McDonough brings awareness to these issues while at the same time providing a hope for the future.
McDonough predicts that the loss of our humanity, nature, and the loss of human nature – the loss of the self – will all be, in part, due to the rise of technology. We, as a species, are becoming numb to our own desires, “wanting … wanting” (10). People are now content to be “distracted” (16), brainwashed, in a sense, numb to life. We take for granted the little things, things that don’t require technology, like emotions, feelings, or experiences; the more we allow technology to rule our loves, the more we are lose our true selves.
An overarching sense of “fear” (9) seems to govern McDonough’s poetry collection: a fear of consumerism; fear of over-consumption; a fear of technology overtaking humans; a fear of the “future” (18) governed/ruled by technology.
McDonough understands that we “cant govern crap” (4), referring to the fact that technology functions on its own, recognizing that awareness to these issues is whats required in order to understand and reverse the dangerous effects of technological control. McDonough heavily opposes this idea of a “man-made future” (3), categorizing technology as “baggage, lugged as grocery[s]” (7).
If you’re looking for political poetry, stop right here. Jill McDonough’s Reaper zooms in on America’s expanding drone program and the ever-blurring line of man and machine. McDonough examines the distancing of culpability and repercussions when there’s a computer screen and a continent between you and the dead. This is not a happy book; it’s a book to make you think, to shine a light on the darker side of American politics, and the warfare we often pretend isn’t happening. She swaps out flowery imagery for repetition of sparse, to-the point poetry that hammers home her message. McDonough’s writing is gritty and unapologetic, refusing to let even the reader off the hook. It never feels like an attack, though. Instead, McDonough is simply insisting that we look at the whole picture, not just the pretty, easy parts.
The table of contents can be read as one long foreboding poem in itself, foreshadowing the themes of technology, death, war, and loss that are to come. At the same time McDonough’s poetry aggravates feelings of nostalgia, reminescent of “back in the day” (14). The “old fashioned” (22) and “forgotton” memories become an anti-theme, juxtaposing our current state of technological control by highlighting memories of the way it once was.
Using modern cultural references such as “iPhone, facebook” (3), “YouTube” (8), and “Twitter” (10), McDonough captures the lighthearted side of technology while simultaneously alluding to the darker side of technology, such as the use of robots as weapons. She knows that “Software Perception, Control Systems” (3) that promote a “follow the leader” (3) lifestyle are dangerous, and wants readers to know it, too. We must not allow ourselves to be led, if we lose our sense of individuality, or ability to think for ourselves, we will lose the future.
“lost our agency .. because of daily technology. We’re so distracted by the decadence available to us—or, for more of us, the fifteen jobs we have to work, the struggles with our insurance companies, finding a ride to the private prison where our family members are held —that we can’t keep track of all the wars being fought in our names. With our taxes. We’ve lost our agency because so many people in power benefit from our ignorance.”
McDonough’s criticism of technology functions as a warning: we will “reap what we sow” (5). McDonough wants us to know of the harsh realities and severe consequences we will face if we allow the irreversible damage of technology to take control over our lives. She knows that once we fully submit to computers, we “cant make them go away” (23).
We are allowing this to happen. It is our own fault. We have become so “distracted by shine” (4) that we do not want to admit that the shine is, in fact, our problem. Technology is not the solution; we are the solution. We, as a species, should ulitize technology without allowing it to take charge of us, to control us, brainwash us, numb us, desensitize us, or distract us. We must act.
Jill McDonough’s book of poetry Reaper is written at a desperate time for humanity. We currently face the threats of overpopulation, pollution and global warming, all of which highlight questions of control and technology. McDonough brings awareness to these issues while at the same time providing a hope for the future.
McDonough predicts that the loss of our humanity, nature, and the loss of human nature – the loss of the self – will all be, in part, due to the rise of technology. We, as a species, are becoming numb to our own desires, “wanting … wanting” (10). People are now content to be “distracted” (16), brainwashed, in a sense, numb to life. We take for granted the little things, things that don’t require technology, like emotions, feelings, or experiences; the more we allow technology to rule our loves, the more we are lose our true selves.
An overarching sense of “fear” (9) seems to govern McDonough’s poetry collection: a fear of consumerism; fear of over-consumption; a fear of technology overtaking humans; a fear of the “future” (18) governed/ruled by technology.
McDonough understands that we “cant govern crap” (4), referring to the fact that technology functions on its own, recognizing that awareness to these issues is whats required in order to understand and reverse the dangerous effects of technological control. McDonough heavily opposes this idea of a “man-made future” (3), categorizing technology as “baggage, lugged as grocery[s]” (7).
If you’re looking for political poetry, stop right here. Jill McDonough’s Reaper zooms in on America’s expanding drone program and the ever-blurring line of man and machine. McDonough examines the distancing of culpability and repercussions when there’s a computer screen and a continent between you and the dead. This is not a happy book; it’s a book to make you think, to shine a light on the darker side of American politics, and the warfare we often pretend isn’t happening. She swaps out flowery imagery for repetition of sparse, to-the point poetry that hammers home her message. McDonough’s writing is gritty and unapologetic, refusing to let even the reader off the hook. It never feels like an attack, though. Instead, McDonough is simply insisting that we look at the whole picture, not just the pretty, easy parts.
The table of contents can be read as one long foreboding poem in itself, foreshadowing the themes of technology, death, war, and loss that are to come. At the same time McDonough’s poetry aggravates feelings of nostalgia, reminescent of “back in the day” (14). The “old fashioned” (22) and “forgotton” memories become an anti-theme, juxtaposing our current state of technological control by highlighting memories of the way it once was.
Using modern cultural references such as “iPhone, facebook” (3), “YouTube” (8), and “Twitter” (10), McDonough captures the lighthearted side of technology while simultaneously alluding to the darker side of technology, such as the use of robots as weapons. She knows that “Software Perception, Control Systems” (3) that promote a “follow the leader” (3) lifestyle are dangerous, and wants readers to know it, too. We must not allow ourselves to be led, if we lose our sense of individuality, or ability to think for ourselves, we will lose the future.
“lost our agency .. because of daily technology. We’re so distracted by the decadence available to us—or, for more of us, the fifteen jobs we have to work, the struggles with our insurance companies, finding a ride to the private prison where our family members are held —that we can’t keep track of all the wars being fought in our names. With our taxes. We’ve lost our agency because so many people in power benefit from our ignorance.”
McDonough’s criticism of technology functions as a warning: we will “reap what we sow” (5). McDonough wants us to know of the harsh realities and severe consequences we will face if we allow the irreversible damage of technology to take control over our lives. She knows that once we fully submit to computers, we “cant make them go away” (23).
We are allowing this to happen. It is our own fault. We have become so “distracted by shine” (4) that we do not want to admit that the shine is, in fact, our problem. Technology is not the solution; we are the solution. We, as a species, should ulitize technology without allowing it to take charge of us, to control us, brainwash us, numb us, desensitize us, or distract us. We must act.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews