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Caught between Coasts: Collected Poems 1989-2018
Living off the grid in small-town middle America, capturing scenes of survival and reckoning, and examining family and personal histories are recurring themes in Jan Chronister's full-length poetry collection "CAUGHT BETWEEN COASTS." The "coasts" map birth and death, brother and sister, child and parent, along the shores of Lake Michigan and Lake Superior where Chronister has lived. Poems address being a daughter, mother, and woman while inviting readers to consider honestly how these roles shape our lives. Called a "memorable collection" by Peggy Trojan, author of "Essence, Homefront: Childhood Memories of WWII" and "Free Range Kids," and endorsed as "a poetic kaleidoscope," this volume of short poems, spoken in pure language, is a multicolored story of the poet's life... Warm, honest, often humorous, solid.
- GenresPoetry
148 pages, Paperback
Published August 1, 2018
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
January 7, 2019
A mixture of memory, heartbreak and humor fills this poetry collection by northern Wisconsin poet, Jan Chronister. I was so impressed that she can say so much in such short poems. Rarely does one even go two pages, which makes this a quick read.
My favorites are "First Grade," for the heartbreak, "Circle the Wagons" for its apt portrayal of a coming winter, "No Utopia" for the humor, "Golden Delicious" for its imagery, "Dry Spell" for its relevance to poets, "The Price of Milk" for its poignancy, and "My Children" because her children sound like mine.
I had the opportunity to hear Jan read her poems in person. Even though she deals with heavy subjects, she has a light touch and is so entertaining. I recommend you see her read if you get the chance, and purchase her book.
My favorites are "First Grade," for the heartbreak, "Circle the Wagons" for its apt portrayal of a coming winter, "No Utopia" for the humor, "Golden Delicious" for its imagery, "Dry Spell" for its relevance to poets, "The Price of Milk" for its poignancy, and "My Children" because her children sound like mine.
I had the opportunity to hear Jan read her poems in person. Even though she deals with heavy subjects, she has a light touch and is so entertaining. I recommend you see her read if you get the chance, and purchase her book.
December 9, 2018
My wife told me about the dialogue a few years back.
My daughter said, “Mama, someday, I want to marry somebody like Papa.”
My wife asked why.
“Because he’s silly. But he’s also very serious.”
This is probably the highest compliment I’ve ever gotten.
And somehow it’s what I think of when I think of Jan Chronister’s book Caught Between Coasts (Collected Poems 1989-2018). When I went to hear Jan read at her book release, she struck me the way a stand-up comedian does. She’s funny. I laughed a lot as she made some commentary in between poems. But when I sat and listened to the poems, I was moved on a deeper level.
It got me thinking that she uses humor to deliver the message. Both with her personality and with some hooks in the poems themselves. I read somewhere once that laughter is just a vocal expression of surprise. It’s the unexpected, maybe even the unexpected truth, that makes us laugh. Or on a more subtle level, makes us pay attention. This is the impression I was left with when I read her book. When I went back, I struggled to find the hooks. But they’re there. Maybe they felt like laugh-out-loud twists because I was quietly reading in a chair.
At the end of “Lu-Ray Love” she describes how she was the middle-child, but got the last laugh when it came to her mother’s precious wedding china:
Always the black sheep
misbehaving
sneaking cigarettes
climbing out windows
far removed
never filling parents’ wishes.
But I am the one with the dishes.
There are so many that get you right at the end in just the right way. I’ve already spoiled one ending so far, so I’ll just say that “Bible Lesson” about a dead cat has a stunning, perfect ending. The last line of “First Grade” gets you about three different ways in the last few words. “In the Doorway” let’s you know how smart the bartender is as he watches a man and woman meet.
The book is broken up into five sections that essentially move from past to future. “Golden Delicious” describes how deer come at night for the apples:
Stretch high like dancers
eat warm sun
buried deep within
cold fruit.
This passage reminds me of how my father, a forester who heated our home with wood, called the flames rising from the logs “solar energy.” I guess it’s nearly all solar energy when you think about it. Maybe some of the same deer appear in “Friday Night” and I chuckled at how they knew what month it was.
“Dry Spell” discusses frustration with gardening and ends this way:
I want to dig up the entire yard,
let aspen shoots and daisies
write a better poem.
The aspens will if you let them. Just get out of the way. The apples. The poems about temperature (minus 45) and the ice (gray scab pulling away from shore). The plants. Poems about nature. Poems about family.
And poems about death. “Amnicon Confession” ends suddenly, in the fashion of the others. You wish there was more, but you realize it was just right as you read yourself off the cliff. “Miscarriage” is somehow a comedy about winter being a pain in the ass and then a tragedy in just a few lines. Remarkable. “Hanging On” is one of the best expressions of wanting to stay alive that I’ve read. Clearly written by someone who’s paid attention to the outdoors and the passage of time.
I listened to a podcast once by people that sounded pretty fancy as they talked about poetry. The poet being interviewed dismissed poetry that dealt with politics or current events. She claimed that poetry should be about two things: love and death. Maybe she’s right. I read Jan’s poems and I chuckle at the same time that I feel sad. It’s subtle and wonderful. The cycles of nature and the seasons, which are bound up with human love and human death, in my opinion.
Jan read my book and said to me once, “You write about the same things that I do.” I sure as hell hope so.
My daughter said, “Mama, someday, I want to marry somebody like Papa.”
My wife asked why.
“Because he’s silly. But he’s also very serious.”
This is probably the highest compliment I’ve ever gotten.
And somehow it’s what I think of when I think of Jan Chronister’s book Caught Between Coasts (Collected Poems 1989-2018). When I went to hear Jan read at her book release, she struck me the way a stand-up comedian does. She’s funny. I laughed a lot as she made some commentary in between poems. But when I sat and listened to the poems, I was moved on a deeper level.
It got me thinking that she uses humor to deliver the message. Both with her personality and with some hooks in the poems themselves. I read somewhere once that laughter is just a vocal expression of surprise. It’s the unexpected, maybe even the unexpected truth, that makes us laugh. Or on a more subtle level, makes us pay attention. This is the impression I was left with when I read her book. When I went back, I struggled to find the hooks. But they’re there. Maybe they felt like laugh-out-loud twists because I was quietly reading in a chair.
At the end of “Lu-Ray Love” she describes how she was the middle-child, but got the last laugh when it came to her mother’s precious wedding china:
Always the black sheep
misbehaving
sneaking cigarettes
climbing out windows
far removed
never filling parents’ wishes.
But I am the one with the dishes.
There are so many that get you right at the end in just the right way. I’ve already spoiled one ending so far, so I’ll just say that “Bible Lesson” about a dead cat has a stunning, perfect ending. The last line of “First Grade” gets you about three different ways in the last few words. “In the Doorway” let’s you know how smart the bartender is as he watches a man and woman meet.
The book is broken up into five sections that essentially move from past to future. “Golden Delicious” describes how deer come at night for the apples:
Stretch high like dancers
eat warm sun
buried deep within
cold fruit.
This passage reminds me of how my father, a forester who heated our home with wood, called the flames rising from the logs “solar energy.” I guess it’s nearly all solar energy when you think about it. Maybe some of the same deer appear in “Friday Night” and I chuckled at how they knew what month it was.
“Dry Spell” discusses frustration with gardening and ends this way:
I want to dig up the entire yard,
let aspen shoots and daisies
write a better poem.
The aspens will if you let them. Just get out of the way. The apples. The poems about temperature (minus 45) and the ice (gray scab pulling away from shore). The plants. Poems about nature. Poems about family.
And poems about death. “Amnicon Confession” ends suddenly, in the fashion of the others. You wish there was more, but you realize it was just right as you read yourself off the cliff. “Miscarriage” is somehow a comedy about winter being a pain in the ass and then a tragedy in just a few lines. Remarkable. “Hanging On” is one of the best expressions of wanting to stay alive that I’ve read. Clearly written by someone who’s paid attention to the outdoors and the passage of time.
I listened to a podcast once by people that sounded pretty fancy as they talked about poetry. The poet being interviewed dismissed poetry that dealt with politics or current events. She claimed that poetry should be about two things: love and death. Maybe she’s right. I read Jan’s poems and I chuckle at the same time that I feel sad. It’s subtle and wonderful. The cycles of nature and the seasons, which are bound up with human love and human death, in my opinion.
Jan read my book and said to me once, “You write about the same things that I do.” I sure as hell hope so.
February 10, 2019
These are gorgeous, lyric poems all about the lives of individuals from Wisconsin's far north where "mailboxes beheaded by the plow / blend in with black brush." Chronister's poems let images tell the story and they are deep and human and universal and profound. "His dead wife's nightgown / hangs on the back / of the bathroom door / like a fragile / forget-me-not pressed / between pages." I'm happy to have been introduced to Chronister's work here--these collected poems are a treasure.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews