House is an Enigma is an investigation of the language used to house descriptions of the body, which so often seek to define and determine the boundaries and behaviors of the spirit that lives within. Written after Bolden’s radical hysterectomy, during which she noted her doctors’ use of house metaphors to describe her body and discuss her inability to have children, these stunning poems set out to expose the fissures in the foundations of the language we use to define human bodies and their behaviors, using these cracks as a lens through which she can see her own body, at last, as her own flawed but beautiful home.
"House sees itself and House / is sorely afraid. House will break its own roof / into shingles, House will eat itself with termite/ teeth, House will rot, if that's what it takes."
House is an Enigma is a collection that delves into loss due to chronic illness and its various traumas. The House poems weave throughout the rest of the collection, tearing down the walls brick by brick as it goes, building them up back in between, then tearing them down again. It mimics the cyclical nature of grief and chronic illness. It searches for light, finds it, snuffs it out. Its a beautiful lyric exploration of something I am all too familiar with and it doesn't shy away from the betrayals of the body. I haven't felt this strung out and seen by a poetry collection since reading Emily Skaja's Brute.
At first it seemed that these poems were so cloaked in metaphor that I couldn’t gain entry. Then I came to the poem called I Was Told Not to Write About the Body and everything clicked for me. Once I wrapped my head around the system of metaphor, I saw that these are poems of defiance in the face of lost opportunity. As someone who is mostly ok with not having kids but occasionally wistful, I especially liked “The Daughter I Will Never Have” (also available at the link above).
Emma Bolden's "House is an Enigma" is lovely, in its entirety. It took me a while - but something finally clicked about a quarter of the way through. Then I went back to reread the poems I hadn't fully comprehended and I discovered new layers. I thoroughly enjoyed Bolden's journey, and how she incorporated her own brand of femininity into the world.
I love how these poems bare their teeth, at times as an echo. Irony is never far. There is pain. I love how in moments of real sweetness they manage a wink at the reader and themselves. And I do love how the poems bend towards moments of great lyricism—vulnerability and openness come as liberation to this speaker.
I loved this book. In it, Emma Bolden explores the grief, infertility and the archetype of the house, whether it be the body or the idea of home itself. However, as with any great book of poetry, that description itself is limiting. I just want to read these poems aloud to friends.
The poetry in this book is intense - some lovely sound play and word play, and lots of thoughts about the body, the (lost) potential of motherhood, relationships both loving and abusive. Definitely no coffee-table verse!