Temper is at once violent and controlled, unflinching and unforgiving in temperament. The poems are mercilessly recursive, placing pressure on the lyric as a mode of both the elegiac and the ecstatic. The result is an enforced silence, urgent with grief.
A beautiful, unflinching book of poems—a tiny novel in verse. Some of my favorite books of poetry—maybe this has to do with the fact that I'm a fiction writer—fall into this category: books that are more than just the sum of their parts, that gather momentum with each poem. The cumulative weight of this book, and books like it, is tough to equal in poetry collections more loosely held together. Each poem here is spare, quiet, devastating. The subject matter—a murdered sister, an accused father—is tragic. No book of poems can change that. But the beauty of the writing—the willingness of this young writer to look at what must be difficult to look at—might be as close as one comes to transcending such pain. One of the strongest and most affecting books of poetry I've read in years.
Tense and Terrifying (no, this is not a blurb for the latest Tom Clancy book!), Beth Bachmann's debut collection is an exploration of murder and its aftermath. Yes, there is sadness, belief and anger in these tight, deceptively simple poems, but what is most haunting is not the abstract emotions, but the images of a young woman left for dead. The poem "Erato" is especially haunting: "Because of the struggle/her arms and legs resting/you might take one look at the shape in the snow and say/swan or angel". Bachmann's book is easily one of the best books I have this year!
Wow... A HUGE thanks to my professor for recommending this. I am not a poetry enthusiast but this is one of the most amazing books of poetry I've ever been exposed to. Bachmann's use of language is tight and flawless. Her images are haunting and heavy without ever being over the top. Temper is a careful and brilliant examination of violence.
Many poems, Bachmann’s best ones, read like lyric essays that start with a proposition but move through the idea associatively, the logic being in the tone or images or mood. I can see the beginning of a style she’s now mastered.
Temper is a tightly constructed collection of poems meticulously arranged around the central theme of a sister’s murder, and the fact that the father is the main suspect. The anger is so well-controlled in these poems that it increases the tension. There is no ranting and raving, no wailing. The poems are short, there is almost no use of enjambment, and most of the stanzas consist of 2 or 3 lines. The terse lines indicate the speaker’s need to control a situation that is so out-of-control it defies social expectations. Move closer. I want to tell you a story. It has its blood knots, its changing water, the usual lures: Family, violence, a margin left bare for interpretive remark. (Paternoster)
I rarely read a collection straight through; usually, I read a few poems, stop to savor and think. On my second read of this book, I went straight through, and the tension was palpable. The speaker seems to be holding her rage inside, although the reader can feel it simmering. The poems are infused with violence. Because of the struggle, her arms and legs resisting, you might take one look at the shape in the snow and say, swan or angel, (Erato)
There is an effective use of repetition, which serves to remind the reader that a girl has died, that unspeakable violence has occurred. See this handful of birds I release on the church steps? I do this to remind you. (Luminous Mystery) The word “mystery” appears in several poem titles, which plays into the fact that the father’s guilt or innocence is never established. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. Nothing’s resolved. But what does it matter? (Mystery Ending With A Girl In A Field)
Temper is a powerful, superbly crafted collection of poems, one after another offering snippets of information, building a story of violence, murder, and love. Bachman doesn’t offer answers or excuses, she doesn’t flinch from writing about the body; we witness her truth. With her use of “you,” the speaker demands that the reader bear witness. You want to know what was left for weeks in the weeds:
the trauma to the head, the naked waist, my sister. (After The Telling)
The final lines of the closing poem inform us of the weight of a sister’s love. Lovesick, I flick a feather into the water. No stones. Only the one in my pocket, heavy as a tongue. (Elegy)
Bachmann's title of her book, Temper, is a perfect example of what you'll find within it. "Temper" we think of first as someone's state of mind, but it also can be defined as "to moderate something." Much of the book is concerned with both temper--as in anger and the violence it inspires, as well as finding some sort of medium. Bachmann's poetry is full of words like "temper," that is, words with multiple meanings, all of which deepen or change the reader's understanding of the poems and the book as a whole.
Wow. I devoured this book--absolutely stunning. It's a remarkably beautiful poetry of flat surfaces and what thumps below them. A book of poems that can each stand alone yet together make one of the most completely beautiful wholes--this is the mark of excellence in how a book of poetry should be put together, something to learn from.
This is an amazing book. Although driven by violence and the attempt to deal with its aftermath, the poems are remarkable for what they don't say--Bachmann's poems are masterfully restrained without being unnecessarily mysterious. There is rage in this book, but also grief, courage, and the search for meaning that reaches beyond mere facts.
I sat down to read the first section, did not get up until I'd finished the volume. Absolutely harrowing, which is to say nothing of the craft. Almost as terrifying as the events described in recurrence through this volume is the ambition of the poems to deal directly with the trauma. A loved one is murdered; the poetry draws its eye close, closer.
The power in this book is what's UNSAID in the poems. Most poems are brief, with only chilling snippets of images. The central story revolves around the brutal murder of Bachmann's sister, and what you imagine through the poems' taut brevity is horrifying and grief stricken. A very cohesive and important, albeit unsettling, collection.
This collection has quickly become my favorite book of poems. The poems' spare language, masterful play with religion, perversity and tragedy, and brilliant organization set a new bar for contemporary American poetry.
A primer on restraint. Also, this is a book with a strong narrative arch--a clear topic and cast of characters, yet told in precise and poetic language.
Beth Bachman’s Temper creates tense, eerie poetry from tragedy and its aftermath. The cycle is based on experiences surrounding the murder of the author’s sister, for which their father is a suspect.
Imagery simmers with violence and restrained emotion. Bachman alludes to the natural world and the Christian Mysteries, expanding the murder to encompass larger questions of faith and human and animal nature. The poems repeatedly describe overgrown vegetation and the industrial no man’s land of the murder site, combining natural imagery with gritty, forensic details, and evoking a dark, unsettling mood. Details evoke instances of transformation, decay, and stasis, and her use of language rings with precise vocabulary and crisp sounds, as in the line “..singed paper//before it blackens; copper beneath corrosion;/the acoustics of the finch’s song after a tear//in its vocal tract.” The poems possess an intense observational sensation, and the speaker’s voice is never far. In challenging, confrontational lines, she directly addresses the reader: “Move closer. I want to tell you a story” and “Still standing? Now come here.”
Because the poems explore so many perspectives of the crime, including the murder, crime scene, lineup, family memories, her father’s account, and the speaker’s own telling, the narrative remains unresolved and complex. The result is a haunting collection whose tone and language linger long after you close the book.
Very wonderfully crafted piece. It creeps up your skin and into your bones. Bachmann writes about her sister who was found dead and within these poems tries to piece it all together. I felt myself grieving with her and wondering about all of the sinister details she pieces together.
My pick for best poetry book I read in 2012. A must read for poets, women, and those interested in the expression of trauma, violence, religion, murder and so much more.
These poems are difficult because they are weighted with grief and seeking understanding in the aftermath of violence. But they also express that grief clearly, each poem a resting point in mourning.
fav poems: second mystery of my sister, woodpile, a new way of thinking about space, hell, mystery beneath a handprint of light, concealment, cold logic
An amazing read. I am happy my professor recommended a few of these poems for everyone to analyze. This is my first poetry book and I think I will look more into the genre!
The fact the poems spring from the murder of the poet’s sister made it extra interesting, since, like many, I am a voyeur of other people’s pain. And the poems are painful, but also delicately built, so there’s space to breathe. As an onlooker, I’m distant enough. (NOTE: I really don't know if it's the poet's or "the speaker's" sister who was killed, by I'm guessing both.)
As a disclaimer, let me say that I weary of poems about “girls” (often young women), innocent or otherwise, who are victims of murder or rape or lurid thoughts in fields, or farms, or schoolyards, and/or found dead with their lipstick smeared or their Catholic schoolgirl skirt all mussed up. It’s all so gothic, and poetry/fiction is saturated with these images. This, however, wasn’t fantasized, but a cycle of poems in which the poet/speaker tries to work out her grief.
In general the story is this: a (18-year old) girl calls her father to pick her up at the train station. He comes and does not find her. She is later found dead in the weeds of the train yard. But it turns out the father is a suspect.
Because of that unresolved suspicion, the poems for me are above all ambiguous. I figured I was too thick to puzzle it out, and read the poems a number of times. And when I decided that the father did do it, I got to the third to last poem, which opens it up again:
Mystery Ending with a Girl in a Field
You’ve heard it before – but listen:
I brought you into this world, I can take you out of it.
I know what you’re thinking.
Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. Nothing’s resolved. But what does it matter?
I could snap these petals off all day, mouthing he loves me, he loves me not.
Many of the poems include the word “mystery” in the title or poem. Regarding the question “what does it matter?,” it matters almost everything. The poet is obviously tortured by the question, which is why she spends days pulling off those petals, he did it, he did not do it. There is a lot left out, like what would be the father’s motive? He was a religious man, so where was the girl coming back from, what time was it? If we knew she’d pissed him off with “bad” behaviour, it would have been clearer.
This collection works as a whole; the poems play off each other, and personally I felt some of them would be uncomfortable alone. Yet the acknowledgements at the end show that –aside from a big chunk published as a Black Warrior Review chapbook- many of them were published singly in different journals, so that shows how much I know.
Great first book. I love the way the book's structure frames individual poems in the mystery of solving Bachmann's sister's murder: titles like "Setting," "Plot," etc. hold the work together in a whole larger than the sum of the parts. The emotional give and take, reveal and hide, of the book enacts the 'Temper' of the title, in which metals are heated and cooled and ultimately made stronger. This tension enacted makes for a fantastic piece of contemporary poetry.
This is a compelling work. All the poems in the book center on a murder and those struggling with its aftermath - an accused father, a devastated mother, the victim's sister. It is difficult to read at times, but also fascinating and beautiful. I read it through and feel like I've only scratched the surface. I will read this one again. Highly recommended.