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Not a Soul but Us: A Story in 84 Sonnets
Winner of the 2021 May Sarton New Hampshire Poetry Prize!
In mid-fourteenth century Yorkshire, the plague pandemic wipes out half the inhabitants of a remote village. Left behind is a twelve-year-old shepherd boy, who with the help of his dog survives near-starvation and a brutal winter and keeps his flock alive. In the months and years that follow, he struggles to reconnect with the life around him. He tells his story in a sequence of eighty-four sonnets.
From the judge:
When faced with the daunting task of choosing one winner out of more than 430 manuscripts submitted for the May Sarton New Hampshire Poetry Prize, what does one look for? A first poem that hooks you and pulls you in--and then poem after poem that refuse to let you stop reading. A mastery of craft. Music. An undulating urgency of tone that leaves no doubt about the emotional impulse that drives the work. A voice that you trust, even when the syntax or the material is difficult. And that material needs to feel relevant, of substance, necessary. Not a Soul But Us is an achievement on every front. Set in rural England during and after the bubonic plague pandemic of 1348-49, this verse novel drives to the heart of what we humans are capable of when boiled down to our very core in the struggle to survive--and how, in more ways than one, it's not our intelligence or our resiliency, but love and the non-human animals that save us. Timely, remarkable, and unforgettable, these eighty-four sonnets are so well crafted that we cease to notice the form, swept away as we are by the current of the story and its song.
--Meg Kearney, author of All Morning the Crows and The Ice Storm and judge of the 2021 May Sarton New Hampshire Poetry Prize
In mid-fourteenth century Yorkshire, the plague pandemic wipes out half the inhabitants of a remote village. Left behind is a twelve-year-old shepherd boy, who with the help of his dog survives near-starvation and a brutal winter and keeps his flock alive. In the months and years that follow, he struggles to reconnect with the life around him. He tells his story in a sequence of eighty-four sonnets.
From the judge:
When faced with the daunting task of choosing one winner out of more than 430 manuscripts submitted for the May Sarton New Hampshire Poetry Prize, what does one look for? A first poem that hooks you and pulls you in--and then poem after poem that refuse to let you stop reading. A mastery of craft. Music. An undulating urgency of tone that leaves no doubt about the emotional impulse that drives the work. A voice that you trust, even when the syntax or the material is difficult. And that material needs to feel relevant, of substance, necessary. Not a Soul But Us is an achievement on every front. Set in rural England during and after the bubonic plague pandemic of 1348-49, this verse novel drives to the heart of what we humans are capable of when boiled down to our very core in the struggle to survive--and how, in more ways than one, it's not our intelligence or our resiliency, but love and the non-human animals that save us. Timely, remarkable, and unforgettable, these eighty-four sonnets are so well crafted that we cease to notice the form, swept away as we are by the current of the story and its song.
--Meg Kearney, author of All Morning the Crows and The Ice Storm and judge of the 2021 May Sarton New Hampshire Poetry Prize
- GenresPoetry
109 pages, Paperback
Published March 18, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
May 12, 2022
This collection of poems sits in the memory as both a novel and a piece of exquisite jewelry. It delivers a living set of characters, while every word contributes and builds the structure.
Merged review:
This collection of poems sits in the memory as both a novel and a piece of exquisite jewelry. It delivers a living set of characters, while every word contributes and builds the structure.
December 30, 2022
The author has created a beautifully written, haunting and heartwarming work of fiction. I recommend this treasure to anyone who loves books and their ability to transport us to another world while enlightening and guiding us in our own.
July 31, 2025
There may be other people who've read this book and a biography of Mike Tyson back to back, but I kinda doubt it. That's the great thing about working in a library, though, surrounded by all the minds and talents of humankind.
This was fantastic. Sonnets are long enough to allow you to forget that you're reading poetry at all. I had to read this quickly, since I was technically working, but I'm sure it would reward a more careful reading to see how it was all put together. But the story was riveting, and on a first read, I got completely lost in it.
We're in 1349, late in the year, in Yorkshire. A boy's first task is to burn down his house while his father is inside, dead (or dying, God forbid) from plague. The rest of his family has already been lost. While he's out tending the sheep one day, the town packs up and leaves. Alone with his dog, he must somehow survive the winter. Most of the book is about how he manages.
Small acts of kindness and mercy are retained, no matter how dire the situation. "We haven't crossed all lines. We're desperate, but we're not yet lost." Later, when the populace returns, the boy believes he owes a fine.
Spring arrives, and with it, lambing season. Life seems a bit brighter. Other humans, including a girl about his age, return to the settlement. The plague, for now, has passed. Life is brighter, but nevertheless the ending found me awakening back to my job, snot-nosed and red-eyed, trying to hold it together while checking out a lady's books.
The boy is just a twelve-year-old child as the book begins, and the language is appropriately basic. What makes this so fascinating is the sense of being there with him. People's roofs are falling apart because the preacher and emergency backup preacher have both died, so the Jake the Thatcher has to become Jake the Preacher. A man is fined three shillings for selling weak ale. And so forth.
Try to find this. Seriously.
This was fantastic. Sonnets are long enough to allow you to forget that you're reading poetry at all. I had to read this quickly, since I was technically working, but I'm sure it would reward a more careful reading to see how it was all put together. But the story was riveting, and on a first read, I got completely lost in it.
We're in 1349, late in the year, in Yorkshire. A boy's first task is to burn down his house while his father is inside, dead (or dying, God forbid) from plague. The rest of his family has already been lost. While he's out tending the sheep one day, the town packs up and leaves. Alone with his dog, he must somehow survive the winter. Most of the book is about how he manages.
Small acts of kindness and mercy are retained, no matter how dire the situation. "We haven't crossed all lines. We're desperate, but we're not yet lost." Later, when the populace returns, the boy believes he owes a fine.
The whole room's staring at me. No
one's heard my voice in all these years. I stride
towards the steward's table. As I go,
some faces soften...
I reach the front, pull out some silver, pause
to count how much I guess I owe. Coins clink
into a stack. The steward stands. "Dear boy"--
he takes my hand--"of course you do not owe
a farthing." He gives back my coins. "All joy
be yours." Every soul I know
who's still alive is here. It makes me see
how many more of us there used to be.
Spring arrives, and with it, lambing season. Life seems a bit brighter. Other humans, including a girl about his age, return to the settlement. The plague, for now, has passed. Life is brighter, but nevertheless the ending found me awakening back to my job, snot-nosed and red-eyed, trying to hold it together while checking out a lady's books.
The boy is just a twelve-year-old child as the book begins, and the language is appropriately basic. What makes this so fascinating is the sense of being there with him. People's roofs are falling apart because the preacher and emergency backup preacher have both died, so the Jake the Thatcher has to become Jake the Preacher. A man is fined three shillings for selling weak ale. And so forth.
Try to find this. Seriously.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews