Gut

by Amanda Larson

Amanda Larson’s Gut begins with an epigraph from Frank O’Hara: “Pain always produces logic, which is very bad for you.” From there, Larson launches an unflinching interrogation of how a young woman maintains agency in the wake of trauma, violence, and desire. Larson spins a conversation between works of feminist theory—including the those of Cathy Caruth, Susan Bordo, Patricia Hill Collins, Anne Carson, Hélène Cixous, and bell hooks—and her own experiences. The book moves through Larson’s recovery while questioning the limits of the very term and of language as a whole. She employs a variety of different forms, including prose, Q&A poems, and a timeline, reflecting both the speaker’s obsession with control and her growing willingness to let it go. With a measured voice, Larson finds a path for how to move beyond logic during processes of trauma and recovery.
 

Genres: Poetry

104 pages, Paperback

Published December 2, 2021

Reviews

[Kent · Rating 5 out of 5]

Larson's view into trauma, and experience, and the paradox of "leaving trauma behind," or being told to leave it behind, and the fact that experiencing trauma is not just about the traumatic event, the experiencing pulls from who someone was before, who they are since, who they keep trying to be, whether they will ever feel they have control over that, these constitute the mesh of poetic impression in the book. To read Larson's account of the year since this event is engrossing and intoxicating. But I shouldn't say that, because it might sound like Larson's book participates in some trauma lit.

In fact, it's how the book is both self-involved, as the writer reckons with what is now an inescapable part of her life, and in conversation with other women who have written about these events. For me, this is the mesh. The texture woven of influence and singularity. I am left wanting the entirety of her life, because the poems make me believe I have direct access to her life, and they can sustain that access for some infinite period of time.

And then the painful reality that I shouldn't want the poet to be accessing this experience, or mulling it over in her mind. It might be argued this paradox (the desire for more access and the sympathetic desire for her to process the trauma) is the book's vehicle. The poet is in constant struggle, and searching for what pieces of her life should keep mattering, and how those pieces might fit. The book is messy, and to see poems that can be so assured this is the best expression of that messiness is what absorbs me entirely.

[Courtney LeBlanc · Rating 4 out of 5]

A collection of prose poems - or just one long prose poem broken up by stanzas - about trauma, assault, survival, and its aftermath.

"The only poems I wrote in the fall, when those things happened to me: // One of wanting to be murdered, one of the desire to deny / pleasure, given that I was so starved for it and took what / I could get."

"Having grown older, and experienced that splitting / of desire—I had been trying to separate the body and mind, / then, wanting to be more-than-woman, a creature of pure / will, proving I could have some utility."

"The woman's breath crowded her tongue. This I know. / How I have lived in the muteness of the home, // how I came to language slowly, learning injury / in my mother's mouth flicking // and giving way to more, the words fixing argument, / then carving out my bones."

[Jessie Peare · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is absolutely beautiful. Larson creates a unique perspective on trauma and portrays it in such an incredibly way that readers can understand and relate to. I especially love the question and answer segments, which were a wonderful touch to an already wonderful collection of pieces.

[Lauren Shoemaker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was moved by Amanda’s thoughtful words and observations as she works through and past a difficult event. You will not regret seeing the world through Amanda’s eyes. Truly a great read.

[Mandeep Rai · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful, emotional read. Larson handles the topic of trauma and bodily autonomy with such precision. Cannot recommend this enough.

[Patricia N. McLaughlin · Rating 3 out of 5]

“How do I write the body if what is written is a horrified thing?” the poet asks. This collage-like collection reads like a detective’s report used to answer this question like she would solve a crime and identify the perpetrators, including passages that sound like forensic evidence, deposition snippets, clinical notes from psychological therapy sessions, research material, and excerpts from the victim’s/survivor’s journal.

[Avi Kolbrener · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredible book of poetry, read it in one sitting.