Objects from April and May is a rumination on the sanctity and significance of cherished possessions. Informed by the loss of precious gold in an armed robbery, these poems trace each taken item across years and borders, from a supermarket in Brooklyn to a checkpoint in Occupied Palestine to an American compound in Iraq. Yet they return, irrevocably, to a violent interaction on a quiet street in Oakland, California, gathering its shattered fragments.
Formally inventive and politically astute, Zena Agha’s poems bristle with a controlled melancholy. As she unspools one traumatic encounter and its reverberations, she shows how much material loss can teach us about love, attachment and sorrow.
These writings are more than just about lost objects that clearly mean a great deal to someone. It’s more than the horrific event that led to the stolen pieces (and the aftermath of it). It’s more than explaining that sentimental value is powerful and probably more valuable than any number on a price tag.
I felt raw and pure honesty. The history of everything makes the story of the author herself and the pieces so special . It’s political, it’s emotional, it’s a journey of reflecting and healing, and the layers are incredible. There are points where you can relate to some of what she says. Other times, I just wanted to know more—a full on book about everything the author has experienced thus far.
Don’t want to give everything away because there’s loads in there (if I wrote everything down I would have typed out the whole book!)
▪️ “…, I think it might (have) be(en) the most precious thing”
▪️“It is expensive to remain alive in America but I am less alive”
▪️Elegy For Return No. 2
▪️Multiverse (1) Q: Why didn’t I fight harder? A: you fought hard enough
▪️Another Important Lesson In Prioritisation
▪️“there must be some conversation since some objects mean more than people & in some cases objects become living beings. Like surrogates.”
▪️Note To Self “Must I find rawness for every retelling?”
Poetry hasn’t been something I’ve been able to appreciate in the past - this collection may be changing that! A very personal account that tugs the heartstrings - Agha shares stories & sentiments of security, privacy, & attachment that may not immediately resonate with everyone, but, if we truly reflect, they are definitely feelings we’ve all had.
I don't know if 3 stars is harsh or generous. I was contemplating a 2 star, despite the fact that I pride myself for just scoring on how I feel rather than overthinking it. I did this time feel like 2 stars was a little harsh, so settled for 3!
The reason behind the above debate is that, maybe her style of poetry isn't for me, poetry to me feels a little more personal than a novel or non fiction book, because poetry needs to make you feel. With her background and research, I went in with probably too much anticipation. So I feel let down, because the topic of loss and memories intertwined with history and rich culture deserves much more.
But to give credit where it is due, my favourite poem which alone redeemed the book, was Damascus. Maybe my nostalgia and fondness played a role in it being the chosen one.
“Objects from April and May” is the first collection of poems by Zena Agha, Palestinian-Iraqi poet based in London. I was really curious about it but it left me rather disappointed. Agha’s poems are framed around the mugging incident at gunpoint she was a victim of outside her partner’s house in California; the attackers stole her most treasured possessions - three necklaces she has always worn around her neck, the oldest one for almost two decades. Agha describes the incident in the author’s note at the beginning of the collection, and the poems follow.
Shock, fear, loss and grief associated with the incident encouraged her to reflect on such experiences in relation to mourning, displacement, loss - of material possessions, of people, of land, of oneself, of the past and the future - experienced by many dispossessed people: Palestinians, Iraqis, Syrians. There are a lot of ruminations around the traumatic incident she herself experienced but I often felt that each new poem talks about exactly the same, without revealing anything new or introducing new thoughts or observations. Agha plays a lot with the form, however this also didn’t seem to bring much value to the poems. At least I failed to notice the merit of structural experiments in most of these texts (and they weren’t even that experimental, hundreds of poets around the world have already done this in many decades before she was born). Many poems seem to be casual drafts of ideas, thoughts written on napkins, in much need of editing and polishing. I love the concept around this collection but sadly, with no intention to disrespect Zena Agha, the poems and the emotions she tried to convey feel neither original nor very well put together to me.