The award-winning, genre-crossing writer demonstrates her power as a funkadelic and formidable feminist voice in this rich and beautiful collection of verse and image—a multi-part retrospective that traverses time, space, and reality to illuminate the expansiveness of Black femme lives.
Side Notes from the Archivist is a preservation of Black culture viewed through a feminist lens. The Archivist leads readers through poems that epitomize youthful renditions of a Black girl coming of age in Philadelphia’s pre-funk ’80s; episodic adventures of “the Black Girl” whose life is depicted through the white gaze; and selections of verse evincing affection for self and testimony to the magnificence within Black femme culture at-large.
Every poem in Side Notes elevates and honestly illustrates the buoyancy of Blackness and the calamity of Black lives on earth. In her uniquely embracing and experimental style, Anastacia-Reneé documents these truths as celebrations of diverse subjects, from Solid Gold to halal hotdogs; as homages and reflections on iconic images, from Marsha P. Johnson to Aunt Jemima; and as critiques of systemic oppression forcing some to countdown their last heartbeat.
From internet “Fame” to the toxicity of the white gaze, Side Notes from the Archivist cements Anastacia-Reneé role as a leading light in the womanist movement—an artist whose work is in conversation with advocates of Black culture and thought such as Audre Lorde, Amiri Baraka, and Nikki Giovanni.
Anastacia-Renee (She/They) is a queer writer, educator, interdisciplinary artist, speaker and podcaster. She is the author of (v.) (Black Ocean) and Forget It (Black Radish) and, Here in the (Middle) of Nowhere and Sidenotes from the Archivist forthcoming from Amistad (an imprint of HarperCollins). They were selected by NBC News as part of the list of "Queer Artist of Color Dominate 2021's Must See LGBTQ Art Shows." Anastacia-Renee was former Seattle Civic Poet (2017-2019), Hugo House Poet-in-Residence (2015-2017), Arc Artist Fellow (2020) and Jack Straw Curator (2020).
Her work has been anthologized in: Teaching Black: The Craft of Teaching on Black Life and Literature, Home is Where You Queer Your Heart, Furious Flower Seeding the Future of African American Poetry, Afrofuturism, Black Comics, And Superhero Poetry, Joy Has a Sound, Spirited Stone: Lessons from Kubota’s Garden, and Seismic: Seattle City of Literature. Her work has appeared in, Hobart, Foglifter, Auburn Avenue, Catapult, Alta, Torch, Poetry Northwest, A-Line, Cascadia Magazine, Hennepin Review, Ms. Magazine and others. Renee has received fellowships and residencies from Cave Canem, Hedgebrook, VONA, Ragdale, Mineral School, and The New Orleans Writers Residency.
I think this might have been my favorite collection so far? I've discovered that I like colorful conversational poetry full of bright, emotional metaphors. This collection of poems by Anastacia-Reneé delved into the experience of Black womanhood through the years. It evokes nostaglia from the 80s while working its way up into the present, demonstrating over and over again how, despite the country's desire for us to all believe that racism, sexist, and homophobia has been cured, it is and has always been baked into the fabric of society.
There was something deeply cathartic about reading this book and realizing that yes the last four years have happened and they've been crazy and it's okay to feel a little crazy that so many things are now just our new normal.
I enjoyed this collection so much, and want to revisit it again and again because it's multi-layered, and every time I pick it up and re-read a poem from the book, I see new meaning and resonance from different angles. It's like walking through a multimedia exhibition of Black experiences, Black resistance, Black vision, Black culture and Black love.
It's cutting, incisive, fierce, gorgeous. For someone like me who grew up in the 80s, it's a journey that crystallizes that decade through collective coming-of-age poems. And as a non-Black POC reading the lyric documentation of mistreatment of Black women and femmes in pop culture, in the economy, in the workplace is an uncompromising reminder of how much work we have to do to dismantle anti-Blackness in every aspect of American life.
I'm definitely gonna get the audiobook when it comes out because I'd love to hear this collection performed in Anastacia-Reneé's own voice.
This was another powerful collection. I recommend this to anyone who doesn't like their poetry overly flowery or lyrical. These poems offer a feminist look on Black culture.
I typically do not enjoy poetry but I didn’t learn some nuggets of information from this (I read to learn), and I think this was uniquely crafted. I loved the titles of the poems and the little / side notes/ that were included as context for the poems. I think this is a cool read.
I really enjoyed this poetry collection. Saw the author read and had to pick up a copy! Really inventive and incisive, fascinating use of form, photographs, and literal "side notes." I especially loved the series of poems called "Her Life (The Black Girl) in Unedited Episodes." From Episode (24):
the black girl wonders how it is that she has become mother earth's stepchild, how it is she has to pay for the moonlight & water
Other favorites include: -Dear Young Poet ("who needs more poems about / dead birds & prince songs gone wrong") -Calling in Black Today -Semantics Check this one out!
I really enjoyed read thing this. It was a lucky find at a bookstore and I’m so happy I hung on to it. The content of the poems is expressed through so many different structures and they all translated well. Loved this read.
I’ve read only one other book by Anastacia-Renée. It was v.. Which, for me, felt more taut, more tense in its posture. Like where (v.) would be a warrior pose in yoga, that you’ve been holding for five minutes, Side notes from the archivist is shavasana with both middle fingers pointed at the world—a pose similar to the one Anastacia-Renée proposes in “Yoga/Not Yoga (Flash Poses).” The frustration and outrage in side notes play differently. Both books account for the poet growing up in a culture that doesn’t respect the position of Black girls. And both books use a frame to bifurcate, maybe trifurcate or quadruplacate the commentary. To remind the reader they shouldn’t get too sucked into the flow or rhythm of language. Which is the temptation when reading the primary poems (”primary poems” being a term I’ve thought to use for poems in a font used for text after the title). I admit I’m not entirely sure I understand what “archivist” is doing in the book when its connection to the poem feels very oblique. I might not be getting the reference. But their position makes clear I should think about what they could be doing, how they could be influencing this “primary poem.” And I can understand how in the current culture, an archivist isn’t often the person looked to for constructing our view of the past. Though she has all access to what had been kept as record of the past. Unfortunately, some people would rather manufacture a “past” in service to the present. For instance, when claiming Aunt Jemima is a symbol of the American Dream (brought up in “Aunt Jemima Is the Picture of the American Dream”).
I like how in both the books I’ve read by Anastacia-Renée, I’m at a loss for the terms I would use when describing her books’ constructions. In this one, the “side notes” periodically remind the reader what might have influenced the poem, or guidance about what the poem is referencing. But there are also times that the “side notes” are where the poem delivers the greatest punch. For instance, when poems discuss the TV show Fame, and then later in the book a side note lands on “fame” in a horrible association. When the White woman in “Casual Conversation” says her rapist looked like the poet’s son, and then tries qualifying, “not in that way.” But the side not comments on the apparent “fame” a Black identity carries. It’s a disturbingly poignant moment. And it’s interesting Anastacia-Renée delivers it via the “side note” rather than the poem.
All of this structure and commentary, I would say, is in pursuit of what “black girl magic” really is. The magical part. The spirit that keeps living in the poet, even when it should have suppressed by dominant culture. The poems are satiric and ebullient. They are aware of the buoyant feelings evoked by “magic” and what lurks beneath that. Or what presses the spirit down. Touching, first, on where she started from. A girl, in a neighborhood, aware of herself and others making the neighborhood what it is. In a way that’s like, Whatever you heard about the 80s is real. And as someone form Philadelphia this was the reality I saw. And the second frame is the “side note,” and what that might be like right now seeing it again. And from there the book deals with the struggle that comes with living as a Black woman in the present moment.
I picked this up from my university library's display, not expecting anything in particular. I hadn't read poetry in a long while admittedly, so I wanted to enjoy a change of pace. It had its hiccups: I think a lot of modern poetry tends to have embarrassing, awkward moments because of the trend toward raw authenticity and because how one feels is often inelegant. Beyond this, not every poem left a mark of course, but a good number had me taking a moment to reflect and saw me think back to them later in the day. The set of Aunt Jemima poems were notable, for example, especially "Aunt Jemima Travels to Victoria's Secret." I also really liked "Cloven-Hoofed Fortune Teller." I'm a young white dude. It's hard to completely appreciate the intersectional experience of being a black woman, but this helped. The perspective is often one of the gaze of people like me, and it's horrifying sometimes how that plays out. I learned some things here too: I had all but forgotten about the bit I read about the MOVE bombing, for example, and this outlined it.
5 stars. A brilliant collection of poetry in a variety of experimental formats. Under the theme of archives, Anastacia-Renee tackles Black womanhood, queerness, and daily life. Their talent shines in reflections on interpersonal interactions as well as global events. Through thoughtful insight into media ("Her Life (The Black Girl) in Unedited Episodes") and cultural discourse ("Aunt Jemima"), she brings forth the voice of a generation. In the "/Side Notes/," Anastacia-Renee celebrates Black musicians, authors, and history, a blend of joy with somber remembrance.
The intention behind every word is as striking as the feelings they evoke. Anastacia-Renee is a master of playing with words, their meanings, and our society's collective use of them in a way that should inspire all of us to think about what we say, what histories we preserve, and how we can best show up for those who are regularly denied their humanity.
Poetry is a medium that can do many things, but the most important is to communicate emotions and feelings to allow us, for even a brief moment, to be in another person's skin. Anastacia-Renée's new book of poems, Side Notes from the Archivist, does just that in a compelling way. While there are some things I might have in common with the author, like trying to be your authentic self when the world seems to be against it, there are many ways we are different. Still, I feel her life when I read her words, and they speak of her youth, her culture, her religion all in a manner that is new and unique but readily understandable. I am so glad that I was given the opportunity to read her book. It is a must-check out for anyone from a marginalized community and probably even more so for those who don't.
Side Notes is a challenging, fascinating book about the ways we record, relate to, and remember our histories and the histories we're born to. I don't come from all the same contexts as the poet, but I hit Professor Google a few times and was swiftly enlightened. I believe we all come into this life carrying stories from our ancestors and stories that come from mystery, and much of life is an uphill battle to recognize your stories in their specificity and see them as guides and cautionary tales. I appreciate that Anastacia-Renee writes poetry that also shows what poetry does at its height -- it shows the human heart working to find meaning and carry history honorably, and that act gives readers' lives meaning and asks them to strive in that way for themselves.
this is a prayer for the good foot & the reserve nerve for the pinky toe darkening & the tiny lines holding each binocular view may you stretch time & not be stretched to wafer may your backbone slip but not break may you be crowned & not crucified copied but not erased may your blood rigor top shelf liquor & mortis wine may your name never be followed with amen let the ground sink with your ase'
A stunning and rich collection of queer and femme Black history and culture (past/present/future). In their poetry, Anastacia-Reneé weaves together loss, identity, community, pain, and celebration with striking imagery. A must-read for those who enjoy intersectional poetry that feels alive on the page.
The poems are beautiful and captivating both individually and collectively as Anastacia-Reneé collects and archives them to share the voice of a Black woman through everyday life and responding to pop culture and historical events. The collection starts by discussing the medium of archiving, then we follow her life through the 80s and then it gets into poems that raise provocative and necessary questions on how we listen to and archive Black women's stories. As Jen Soriano says in her review, "It's like walking through a multimedia exhibition of Black experiences, Black resistance, Black vision, Black culture and Black love."
A daydreamer, I usually listen to poetry books twice, so I relisten to Anastacia-Reneé’s genre-bending collection exploring Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Black girlhood; Black culture and icons; feminism; and memory. A list lover, I keep returning to the opening. The first section, “Retroflect,” begins with a list under “attributes of the archivist” from “takes copious notes” to “observes” and “remembers everything” to “holds secrets”
This collection has me completely hooked! It's like diving into a whirlwind of excitement and enchantment. The writing style is absolutely captivating, and the way the author uses metaphors to paint vivid pictures in my mind is simply mesmerizing. But what really keeps me on the edge of my seat are the poetic notes and annotations scattered throughout. They add an extra layer of depth and make this collection an absolute gem for anyone venturing into the world of poetry for the first time. Trust me, you won't be able to put it down!
These lyrical poetry and prose offerings reflect upon Black society and culture in the 1980s at the start of the AIDS and drug epidemics before proceeding to the present day. They then channel Black and feminist rage upon targets such as racism, gentrification, slumming and the mistreatment of women and children.
These are not poems that will be appreciated by everyone as some are not willing to accept their complicity in the malfeasance described in many of these poems
It pains me to say I have no idea what I just read. This book of poetry went way over my head. To be fair, I don’t do well with abstract poetry! Unfortunately, this book was much too impressionistic for me. ⠀ However, if abstract poetry is your thing, I’m sure you’re going to love this book. I want to love it! I honestly do! But I just don’t get it. ⠀
if i liked poetry as a medium this would be a 5 but i don't and that is a me problem! full disclosure i read this to fill in a book bingo square but i also met the author's partner at my job and they seemed very cool and i figured that cool people probably choose to spend thier lives with other cool people and i was right! end run-on sentence.
I enjoyed this poetry collection and learning more about the author. Anastacia-Reneé has their own unique style of switching perspective to emote a story & moment. Their use of a "insert here" blank space to contrast a definitive identity & category, left me ruminating about the "mad lib" like identifiers that initially popped into my mind; a word association line. I gained a further expansion on history from their work and I look forward to reading more.
Poetry lent by Seattle Public Library via Libby App
love love love the layout of this book, the sections are formatted so well and the endnotes and footnotes!! how cool!!
Exploring the author's childhood and identity was beautiful, poetry proves to be one of the best ways to not only connect with others but also self-reflect on yourself, society, culture, and life as we go through it
3.5 stars. Books like this make me miss lit classes; I really enjoyed a lot of these poems, but also know there are so many, many layers I’m missing (I don’t read a lot of poetry). This is a collection I’ll probably come back to every few years to see what new meanings I can excavate.
i am so glad i audiobooked this—normally I’m not a poetry OR audiobook gal, but i think one of the reason I don’t normally like poetry is bc it feels like it’s meant to be read, and boy did this audiobook prove that. Great poetry and great narration (by the author)!
Really great book and a pretty short read. I love reading but haven’t had motivation to read anything but this book helped a lot. It’s so beautifully written and pieced together. I really recommend it. I like poetry but don’t read it often and this convinced me I should probably read more.