This collection reimagines characters from mythology, folklore, fairy tales, and pop culture from the perspective of their daughters—daughters we don’t expect such individuals to have, as we don’t usually think of Bigfoot, the Mad Hatter, or Medusa as parents.
The persona poems in Daughters give voice to the guilt, resentment, and anger that may come with raising a child as well as explore the intertwining of these shameful feelings with pride and love. These figures are a new visioning, from the daughters’ perspective, of what it means to shape another human being.
Taking on such topics as aging, rebellion, loss, domestic violence, homelessness, and gender identity, the voices of Daughters aim to upend the reader’s conceptions of the characters and throw light upon what it means for a girl to come out from under her parents as a woman of her own making.
Brittney Corrigan is the author of the poetry collections Daughters, Breaking, Navigation, 40 Weeks and most recently, Solastalgia, a collection of poems about climate change, extinction, and the Anthropocene Age (JackLeg Press, 2023). Brittney was raised in Colorado and has lived in Portland, Oregon for more than three decades, where she is an alumna and employee of Reed College. Her recent debut short story collection, The Ghost Town Collectives, won the 2023 Osprey Award for Fiction from Middle Creek Publishing.
A collection of poems written from the daughter's perspective - daughters of myths, folklore, fantasy, and reality.
from Scarecrow's Daughter: "What I need him to understand / is that I love the crows, the sheen / of them, the crowd of their voices, / the way their wings make that sound / like a field mouse running for its life / through dry grass."
from Siren's s Daughter: "Such conceit, to think / a goddess would sing / of men's deeds. We sing / for the same reason cranes sing, / or the deepening whales, / or a whole fierce chorus of wolves."
from Amelia's Daughter: "Sometimes I put on my mother's cap, / press the flaps against my ears as if / listening to the sea, but instead / it's an echo of radio static."