Acclaimed short-fiction writer Heather Birrell turns to poetry in this tender and exuberant debut collection. Here, Mr. T, Joni Mitchell, Fidel Castro, and the poet's mother (among others) barge in to distract and derail her dreams. The poems in this book are playful, hallucinatory, and often funny. They explore the farfetchedness and perseverance of love between friends and family members, the importance of libraries and locked mental health wards, and ways to live with meaning in the face of a looming apocalypse. Birrell's poetry lines - weaving through an acrobatic breadth of forms and tones - are both precise and plainspoken, and showcase an odd, intuitive logical, embracing the surrealism of this world we're stuck in.
Heather Birrell is the author of two story collections, Mad Hope (Coach House, 2012) and I know you are but what am I? (Coach House, 2004). Her work has been honoured with the Journey Prize for short fiction and the Edna Staebler Award for creative non-fiction, and has been short- listed for both National and Western Magazine Awards. Birrell’s stories have appeared in many North American journals and anthologies, including The New Quarterly and Toronto Noir. She lives with her husband and two daughters in Toronto, where she teaches high school English.
I read it first in an ecstatic flurry of sogoodsogoodsogood And then a second time A prolonged time I put it beside the bathtub and whenever I needed to I would have a bubble bath and read a single poem
It was a pandemic gift I gave myself “For kicks and survival” To soak in bubbles and a poem Whenever I needed to
I recommend it
I would read a poem and then feel around/ Wiggle around/think about the poem itself my reaction to it poetry in general me in general
And About the kind of poetry I might write that could possibly be as delightful
Because Each of the poems in this book whispered a new idea About how a poem might be
And even though the poems were good, all of them, They encouraged me to write my own poem even if it was bad
I’ve tried to write poetry before. With embarrassing results. And I’d sensibly sworn off it But now, fuck that shit
I cannot recommend this book more I also recommend Pears plant oils body wash I found it halfway through the process It has the exact same sensibility as this poetry imho
Next time I read a book of poetry in the bath I will first find the perfect scented soaking product There should be a sommelier-type occupation To help you pair literature and bubbles
I have much more to say about this lovely book
But I will keep it to myself, because it is personal and because you should treat yourself to your own thoughts your own bubbles your own attempts at odd poetry
Silly, serious, sadhappy, wonderful, dreamy, familial, This is a book that says yes. We need those and here is one
What I enjoyed most about Heather Birrell’s poetry book Float and Scurry is its wonderful humour even as it delved into big topics such as racism, mental illness, marriage, our apocalyptic times, or the inconvenience of aging (think temporomandibular joint). These poems are especially funny when celebrities and iconic people (Joni Mitchell, Donald Trump’s cousin, Einstein, Mr. T, Hades, Jack the Ripper, to name a few) show up in the poet’s dreams to discuss life. Not all the poems are funny, however. One poem is about witnessing a serious highway accident. Another gives us a glimpse into the childhood memories associated with a chair. These poems are equally lovely for the language, details, and insights that Birrell chooses to include.
If you are someone like me; someone that is, who wants to love poetry, but are often left feeling inadequate because you don’t get it, then this is definitely the volume for you. The content of this slim book (110 pages) is both highly accessible and delightfully rich. I highly recommend this collection!
Birrell’s first collection of poetry feels like a first collection of poetry in the best way possible. What I mean by this is that her poems seem to have a sense of self awareness to them that is maintained throughout the book. This self awareness is best captured in “Advice II” which appears near the end of the collection; “when you write a poem, try / not to mention love or farts / or other things that happen / in elevators”. Hear you can see the humour imbedded in this collection as well while also commenting on its own navigation through this genre. That isn’t to say it’s an an awkward or a terrible navigation, just one that isn’t afraid to poke fun at itself. Birrell shows security in her surrealist poems, even when some of them depict dreams of conversations with Mr. T and Joni Mitchell.
Loved this book! As soon as I finished reading it I immediately re-read it again. The poems are surreal, accessible, generous and wonderfully refreshing. Poetry experts and novices alike will respond to this book. It somehow has both a universal grip and a personal touch, and feels like a collection of open windows, every page a breath of fresh air.
Enjoyed the ‘Float and Scurry” of Heather Birrell’s poetry, shifting anecdotes from dream and waking life. Meet these poems; invite them in as they welcome you.