Poetry. African & African American Studies. Women's Studies. Winner of the Red Mountain Discovery Award. Monica Prince's Instructions for Temporary Survival suggests a path that moves one from suffering to healing. The poems tackle historical trauma, racism, rape, and depression—all explain that pain is meant to inform, not define, one's life. Rather than ask us to live in a constant state of survival, or give up entirely, this collection shows the many ways we can save ourselves, while revealing the secrets that require a rescue in the first place.
I'm trying my hardest to round out and develop my reading horizons, which includes reading poetry.
I heard her speak at this year's Barrelhouse's Conversations and Connections writing conference in Pittsburgh and she read three poems from this book...which led me to buy the book at the end. Wonderfully written and full of emotion that I couldn't touch with poetry.
A beautiful collection about love, grief, and identity. Prince nails it right of out the gate with a section on Black womanhood that oscillates between empowerment, rage, and vulnerability. She seamlessly weaves her own narrative with the voices of others, both the famous (Malcom X) and nameless (a stock photo of a slave woman), making the poems seem timeless and expansive and yet perfectly set in 2019 America. The collection continues this multi-person narrative into stories of new love, dying love, grief, trauma, and the daily chore of staying alive. The poems push and pull between indicting a world that doesn't love well and admitting that they can't help but love deeply and wholly anyway. Although some of the poems are literally about staying alive, the real "survivor" of this collection is the narrator's heart, which gets crushed time and again, but is never down for the count.
Prince weaves a story of survival and strength in her collection of poems. While some felt a bit repetitive, overall it was a good read.
from Trauma as a Cigarette: "...it was the need to be / someone not so damaged, unhinged, unsalvageable. / We smokers light up death behind cupped hands / every day, choose to stare it in the eyes, and inhale."
from Body Demands Contrition From Mind: "Apologize for forgiving every man who breaks into me / and wipes his feet on you. For withholding pleasure. / For making us both suffer without food or exercise or / poetry or sex under the guise of protection."