Winner of the Walt Whitman Award of the Academy of American Poets, selected by Harryette Mullen
By turns aggressively reckless and fiercely protective, always guided by faith and ancestry, Threa Almontaser’s incendiary debut asks how mistranslation can be a form of self-knowledge and survival. A love letter to the country and people of Yemen, a portrait of young Muslim womanhood in New York after 9/11, and an extraordinarily composed examination of what it means to carry in the body the echoes of what came before, Almontaser’s polyvocal collection sneaks artifacts to and from worlds, repurposing language and adapting to the space between cultures. Half-crunk and hungry, speakers move with the force of what cannot be contained by the limits of the American imagination, and instead invest in troublemaking and trickery, navigate imperial violence across multiple accents and anthems, and apply gang signs in henna, utilizing any means necessary to form a semblance of home. In doing so, The Wild Fox of Yemen fearlessly rides the tension between carnality and tenderness in the unruly human spirit.
Threa Almontaser holds a Master of Fine Arts in poetry from North Carolina State University. Her debut, The Wild Fox of Yemen, was nominated for a National Book Award and won the Walt Whitman Award from The Academy of American Poets.
The Wild Fox of Yemen: Poems by the Yemeni American author, Threa Almontaser, thrusts the reader into a whirlwind. Almontaser’s diction is bold, exuberant, vibrant, and sizzles with electricity.
The poems address multiple topics: navigating a space between two cultures; interrogating what it means to be a Muslim black woman in America; immigrant assimilation; the yearning to belong; othering; Islamophobia in post 9/11 America; dreams and nightmares; body image; visits to Yemen; sexism; sexuality; politics; racism; and condemnation of the war in Yemen. Almontaser also includes translations of two poems by the Yemeni poet Abdullah Al-Baradouni.
Almontaser’s voice is unflinchingly honest and unapologetic. She peppers her poems with Arabic words, seamlessly moving from one language to another while crisscrossing cultural borders. Her images are vivid, startling, scattered, fragmentary, and burst energetically on the page. She uses strong, provocative language. Her voice is powerful; her roar, loud; her energy, untamed; her spirit, undaunted.
Winner of the Walt Whitman Award of the Academy of American Poets, this breathtaking collection draws the reader into Almontaser’s world imbued with personal and political intensity. If you enjoy the poetry of Walt Whitman, you will love the way Almontaser sounds her “barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.”
This poetry collection was on the long but not shortlist of the National Book Award for poetry, which is usually my happy place.
The poet is Yemeni-American, and many of the poems have threads of nostalgia for the place, family, culture, etc. Some poems reflect on the experience of being Arab and Muslim in America around and post 9/11, and the contrasts between place and culture.
To me, I felt sad, knowing how much Yemen has lost in its current war, wondering how the poet feels about the poems now, if they are painful or even more treasured.
The poet is quite the craftswoman and she employs many devices in these poems. Enough that I noticed but only to an appreciation standpoint, not frustration. I could just feel the crafting of some of the turns of phrase and this slowed me down a bit to savor the poems.
A beautiful poetry collection that honors the people and culture of Yemen. Fluid, elegant, and pulsing with love, each poem explores the winding pathways of language, memory, discussing the immigrant experience, the joy and pain passed through generations, the dancing flames of the spirit and the beautifully turbulent waters of the heart. Vibrant, a collection of threads weaving together a unique identity, and a compelling voice.
At a rooftop party, you dance near every edge. Someone drops a ring in glass, in your head the clink of a used bullet, still hot, and that fast the rooftop is covered with wires, riflemen, and you’re thinking about mutiny, Mk47s, two cities clawing at each other’s bruised throats while boys try to hold your hips, keep dancing. The war is on your hips. Your hands. You wear it all over. You wrap your hair in it. Pluck it from your eyebrows. The rooftop is wide and caring, too rained or sometimes incensed, and you never once think to be afraid of what could arrow a cloud and kill it. You eat volcano rolls, pink pepper goat cheese, and the war enters you. You stare at Still Life with Flowers and Fruit and the glade of roses scream war. Here with a doctor and your pregnant aunt who hasn’t yet learned English, only speaks in war. Friends in Greensboro get picked up by bored police, get beat up for no reason, and those fists carry war. Job interviews, you carve yourself into a white-known shape and that renaming is a kind of war. You take a passport photo, told to smile without teeth, the flash a bright war. You’re on the other side of mercy with your meadows and fluffed spillage, where nights are creamed with saviors. Here everyone rests on roofs graduated and sung, gazing at a sky that won’t bleed them. At the beach, you’re buried to the neck, practicing dead, snug in your chosen tomb, gulls flittering on all sides, waves fleshing closer, and that fast, you’re thinking of a grubby desert girl who placed small stones in her scarf, shook it back and forth, said, This is what the sea must sound like.
Reading this book of fascinating, complex and passionate poems about Yemen I’ve become more aware and want others to know what has happened and is still happening there. Read this poetry
Another winner from Graywolf Press, this book serendipitously appeared in my neighborhood Little Free Library. Almontaser's writing is powerful, blending American and Yemeni culture, English and Arabic language, and grappling with feminism, racism, faith, and the war in Yemen. I'm not entirely sure I felt like I was an intelligent enough of a reader to appreciate the entire depth of her work but I certainly reacted to it from an emotional standpoint and I appreciated her range of form and approach. It's hard to believe this is a debut collection given the confidence of her writing voice and her willingness to "get bloody."
Favorite poems from this collection included: - "Hunting Girliness" - "Feast, Beginning w/ a Kissed Blade" - "Hunger Wraps Himself" - "Hidden Bombs in My Coochie" (that fourth verse is like she's throwing punches!) - "I Crack an Egg" - "Middle Eastern Music" (probably my favorite of the whole collection) - "Please Take Off Your Shoes Before Entering" - "When White Boys Ask to See My Hair" -------------------------------- WORDS THE WILD FOX INTRODUCED TO ME rutilant | cidal | minacious | fajr | Darwish | Aroosa | dunya | catasterism
excellent example of the (yet unnamed) most prominent voice/style in contemporary poetry right now… im formulating thoughts but I can’t quite put my finger on anything yet
like it’s good don’t get me wrong and I’m gonna read whatever she writes next
but I have read this exact way of making poems, this exact style, at least ten times in ten other poets
This is required reading for 2021. Winner of Academy of American Poets First Book Award (2020), Threa Almontaser’s poetry radiates. I was awe-struck by her sheer talent. A Yemeni American, Almontaser combines the beauty of Arabic with a breathtaking mastery of English, creating a sound that ascends. She uses metaphor and imagery to almost bring the transcendent to life. The reader begins to see and feel the foxtail and hear the sound of bodega cats. One of the best first collections I’ve read in a long time.
"... amreeka settles my body into place it unbends the flick of my wrist when I talk turns my femurs into fire escapes eyes canonized chasms my neck's axis craning down it tells baristas my name is tina tongue ebbing far away from me the news makes me believe I was born to cock back this rifle sleek & steady like a true terrorist the news makes me want to grab my phone & gun it out the country the news makes me touch myself find the panic button of my body & press hard"
// Hidden Bombs in My Coochie
In her first collection, Threa Almontaser asks readers, "Are we really meant to live forever shipwrecked, / drowning at the slash-throat edge?" A Yemeni-American hijabi Muslim woman, she explores an fascinating clash of two cultures and peoples, the unequal power relations and perceptions, Islamophobia and what it is to be a Muslim today, current condition of Yemen and how it got there. Her poetic diction is cutting, precise, defiant. Her language reflects hybridity, the liberal use of Arabic without italicization or explanation.
Saying “We all choose how to fill / the lingering lack inside us", she moves out of set patterns, carving out a space of her own in complex, multi-layered verses that are a treat to parse & unravel. Her poems are urgent exhortation, a fierce reclamation, asserting an undaunted identity: "We are still here, we will always be here, we, the dirt under the nails of your country, crusted red / from digging." A gorgeous work.
(I received a finished copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
this is a hard book for me to review because on first read (I browse poetry books, never front to back) I didn't like it. I put it aside for a bit (library book, so I have parameters) and picked it up again since I had checked it out because I read something somewhere by her I liked (can't remember).
I find the poems very uneven. Some are beautifully written and compelling, others leave me blah. I guess that can be said of most poetry chapbooks (but not all, and those are the ones I keep), but this one calls me and I am currently trying to decide whether I need it in my library. I collect those poetry books which will inspire me to write more, whose rhythm takes me to my own open and flowing space. I'm not sure this book does that (and certainly my needs are not why the book was written in the first place).
The author throws in Arabic words that, in many places, have no context for the reader to figure out what is being spoken of. I think this reduces the impact. If I am reading a poem and a word stops me, that is not a good poem. Poems, even long poems, don't have room for superfluous words, or words that do not lend themselves to the overall movement of the poem. There is far too much of that in the works in this chapbook.
In the end, I find myself conflicted. Borrow it from your library first.
These were good collection of poetry. However, at times the poems could feel confusing or be surface level to very deeper level of topics that the author introduced. I also feel like a lot of poems structure felt last minute and not really thought out in a way that completely benefits the poem itself and sometimes the poem could lose value because of this. Despite this, my favorite poems are:
My president Ask me about Redemption My Father Finds Home through the Birds Ode to Bodega Cats Middle Eastern Music
A fascinating book of poetry that considers all aspects of life for a Muslim woman living in America. It looks at the hijab as a symbol of hate following 9/11, the role of women and girls in America and expectations in her heritage country of Yemen, the traditions and rituals of both countries including language.
The imagery is strong and visceral helped by the original and unusual format of the poems, each one different but visually poetic. The language is aggressive at times with the use of American phrases and Arabic ones that emphasise the differences and beauty between the cultures. There is conflict between values and how the world is seen, how the people view dogs, for example, food and how Almontaser tries to fit in with the ideas if femininity in America.
This is a powerful book, enlightening in expression with a vivid use of language and the symbolism of the fox - the predatory, cunning, scavenging, hunted, wild and yet urban, dog - is like Yemen, or the Yemeni woman herself: trying to find their place in the world. Inventive, creative, beautiful. Even if you don't usually like poetry this book is as vital as any novel.
This is a stunning, defiant, sassy book. The mix of languages & cultures is dizzying, & provocative. The poet has her feet in the Bronx, but her heart, her soul is in Yemen. I'm particularly grateful to her for introducing me to the Yemeni poet Abdullah Al-Baradouni (1929 - 1999) by her including her translations of 2 of his poems. You will need your phone handy with its dictionary & translation apps, which aren't always adequate, but she is an adept enough poet so that the poem, the context will take you along. My copy is all marked up, you can't have it.
These poems are beautiful, all about being Yemeni and being frustrated at the injustices of the world. Very political, very centered on identity, and filled with great imagery. A fair chunk of these poems went over my head, but the parts I understood I thoroughly enjoyed.
Content Warnings: Islamophobia, rape, war, drug addiction, gang violence, murder
Stunning, beautiful, powerful, incredible, really one could not say better things about these poems. I love the perspective, and the complexity, the themes these poems explore, how they play with language. I cannot get enough.
With Bismillah Allah in our earnest foxhearts we are set adrift into terrain that of yemanizi ghosts and a trail of dead ancestors - we've got hijab fetishes (which I may very well have) and a brutal war of spectacle Threa almontaser owns both throngs of language well
Hard to rate this because I'm not really a poetry person, I cannot explain or understand it particularly well, but the vibes in this collection were absolutely impeccable - especially those doing homage to the Muslim community and to Yemen, it's history, it's strength, it's heartbreak.
Some poems definitely went over my head, but that's a me problem.
What can one do as their country is vanishing from the earth? Write poetry. Write beautiful, personal poetry to show how the world needs the people of Yemen. Ukraine. The USA. Wherever the bullets are cutting down the people. Everywhere.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Where did my old words go, my first words? I found my native speech like a trap / door, the Arabic softening my fall. Now the words shed / from my mouth like deciduous teeth. Sometimes I dream / in Arabic without understanding. I search everyone’s pockets, / leave them hanging like panting tongues. I have been so careless / with the words I already have.
In this collection, Almontaser is reflecting on language, identity, and survival. At first glance, it is a book about mistranslation, specifically the tensions between Arabic and English, but beneath that lies a deeper reckoning with what it means to exist between worlds. She is writing from the crossroads of cultures, exploring the fractures of being both Yemeni and American, Muslim and Western, insider and outsider.
Through vivid language, Almontaser transforms translation into a metaphor for belonging itself. Her poems wrestle with the aftermath of 9/11, not only as a political moment but as a personal rupture that reshaped what it means to be visible, to be misunderstood, and to be resilient. Additionally, much of this collection is reflecting on Yemeni culture. These poems feel like an act of remembrance, an attempt to hold onto the homeland through the textures of language, ritual, and inherited memory. There was such a beauty in the way these poems were crafted to show the breadth of the Yemeni experience, and yet also the unanswered communal longing for home.
What made The Wild Fox of Yemen so impactful for me though was its urgency; its insistence on being seen and heard. The collection burns with passion, but it’s not only righteous anger! This collection also shows tenderness, humor, and love for Yemen. Almontaser’s voice demands that we not only remember her words but also remember a country and a people too often reduced to headlines. In doing so, she expands the idea of what American poetry can hold: the weight of diaspora, the beauty of survival, and the hope of translation to bridge understanding.
This book left me with more questions than I started it with, but there were some poems I did like.
My favorites: p36 Guide to Gardening Your Roots (after Natalie Diaz)--I have read 2 of Diaz's collections and still don't get the reference. I especially liked the section about her father--missing a place that no longer exists as he knew it. The writing is strong and evocative.
p43 Yemen Rising as Poorest Country in the World. This actually has much of the same feel as the section about her father in poem above.
All of the poems that are about Yemen I found interesting--she evokes the place. Her poems touching on America mostly confused me--Yemen is desert America not, and it seems to consist of Muslim outcasts and white people. That's it. Yemeni-Americans are defined as Muslim, Americans are described as white (though many Americans of all colors/ethnicities would touch on their religion as a main identifier--just as she does, and she IS American). She was born in NY and now lives in NC--places I have not been since I was a kid. She teaches English to immigrants and refugees, so clearly she knows America is not as simple as she portrays it in this collection, yet there it is.
threa almontaser is a talented poet who writes in beautiful metaphors and transliteration without feeling compelled to be understood by a wide audience (as one review notes). there is so much power in writing just for yourself. you can learn a lot about the author by reading their work, and sometimes when you’re lucky, there is written work where you can learn a lot about yourself. in these poems i have done both