"Hiding" is a short book of ten poems; each poem is about an aspect of family life. It is Book 4 of the series: "Ten Poems for Under a Buck. Each Title in this series attempts to "...make poetry accessible...by writing about topics people can relate to...at an affordable price."
I received a free ebook copy of this book through a giveaway hosted on GoodReads.
And with Hiding comes the end to an era, or at least a really great poetry series, and writer Guy Conner does not disappoint. For the final installment of his Ten Poems for Under a Buck series, Conner turns to his complicated childhood. He writes about his struggles with the normal aspects of young life, such as the beginning of attraction, to the struggles more particular to him, such as growing up with a mentally ill mother, and the sense of “hiding” himself and his mother from the scrutiny of the outside world that gives the book its name. As with the former 3, the emotions behind each one is evident. Although the events that he draws from for inspiration are unique to his life, he also takes care to find the universal elements as well, emphasizing the fact that we are all of one people, despite our differences. I enjoyed this series immensely, which should be obvious to anyone who has read my other reviews. I will miss reading Conner’s work, but will look out for opportunities to read more of his work in the future, whether it be through further luck in winning it, or by buying them myself with any Amazon credits I am able to earn. I wish Guy Conner best of luck in his future poetic endeavors, and thank him and GoodReads for giving me the opportunity to read these four collections over the course of this year!
I won this book from a Goodreads Giveaway. These poems brought back memories for me. A poem about a boy’s first knife reminded me of my older brother when he got his first one, it was like an early rite of passage into manhood. My Father’s Face reminds me of my father, who passed away at 90. A poem of walking to the movies brought back memories of being old enough to walk to the matinee when visiting my grandparents. Moody House captures the depressive feeling of seeing loved ones decline into old age.
Other poems I related to featured soda fountains, and segregation. Memories of asking my mom why “coloreds” had signs telling them where they could and couldn’t go. I remember Mom shrugged and said “That’s just the way it is”. My “But why??” never got a satisfactory answer. I’m at a loss to understanding the poem “Hiding”. There is the unknown of what was said on the phone? I have a few guesses, but doubt they are right.
I give this book 5 stars not because these are the best poems ever written. But because somehow they forced me to conjure up (and in some cases confront) long forgotten images from my own past. I can’t say that about many (if any) books I’ve read.
I received a copy of this from a Goodreads giveaway. I used to have a hard time trying to rate books of poetry or short stories, because I always like some but not others. So I developed a system, where I rate each individual piece, then average those ratings. Here is the breakdown for these poems: Motherless Child: 3 Kingsville, Texas - 1951: 1 Is Your Mother Home?: 2 My Father's Face: 3 My Eyebrow Curves Like the Devil's: 2 Cita: 4 Moody House: Winter, 1971: 2 Our Back Fence-1953: 3 Beaumont, Texas - 1953: 5 Hiding: 3
I really liked Beaumont, Texas-1953, because I was able to relate to it due to an experience I had as a child in the late 70's in Arkansas. Cita was another favorite, because I could feel the love between the author and his grandmother. Hiding was heartbreaking. Others I liked, but some I didn't care for. Overall, a nice, short, volume of poetry.
As with most books of poetry, this one is a mix of 'not bad', 'ugh', and 'oh! I liked that one!'. Most of them fell in the mid range for me, with a couple outliers on both ends of the spectrum.
I liked that the poems were about normal life, as those are the kinds of poems I connect with best. I do think the experience might have been improved by less explanation (in preface and footnotes) and just letting the poems stand on their own.
Poetry is a need. Writing poetry is releasing that need, whether for the individual who writes it or for his audience to hear it. Mr. Conner expresses his need interestingly and real. One can feel the embarrassment and pain as well as the familial need that is being set forth quietly. Hope there is more.