What do you think?
Rate this book
She Who Sleeps with Bones
In this insightful collection of poetry that brims with self-deprecating honesty and sexual frankness, themes of spirituality and gender relations are explored through topics such as the death of friends and relatives, the anxiety of being a foreigner in another country, the peril of unrequited love, the importance of size in sexual play, and the premonition of tragedy. With a deft handling of syntax, these thought-provoking epiphanies on the human condition and haunted memories are full of earthy sensuality and celebratory humor that are rooted in the everyday details of living, loving, fearing, laughing, and hoping.
- GenresPoetry
80 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2009
2 people are currently reading
37 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
June 13, 2021
I challenged myself to read poetry for Read Caribbean month and I'm so glad I did. Thoroughly enjoyed this collection.
February 14, 2012
Tanya Shirley’s debut collection She Who Sleeps with Bones is a deftly crafted gem that retells the story of the Jamaican experience from a new perspective. She weaves memories of events, people and places, painful or happy, with humor and creates a mythos around her life. She is unafraid to explore subjects that are taboo in Jamaican society, and in doing so, she unmasks herself and pulls the reader into her personal recollection. Further, she knows her craft and fuses the natural rhythms of her voice with enjambment, line breaks, metre and other poetic forms, such as, dub and spoken word, to share her story.
The collection begins with a poem that bears the name of the collection:
I’ve now become an unwilling seer…
My mother could see from the back
of her head, the enemy approaching
She deciphered the codes of dreams
and scared children with her prophecies
of parents drowning.
I decided long ago I would never
grow into her…
But still the curse chose me (1).
Shirley is a watcher woman, burdened by the dreams of her mother, grandmother and perhaps even great grandmother. This poems sets the tone for the book and evokes a journey into the metaphysical realm to which Shirley is unwilling to travel, but has to endure for the sake of the reader.
Further, Shirley’s journey is not just a metaphysical one, it is one that is deeply rooted in her experience living in the city. In Perhaps if I loved you more, I would risk my life, she writes
We used to sit in my car outside your gate
for hours; we never thought of robbers or hosts
or men clothed in blood-thirsty shirts,
threatening khaki pants
ready to pounce, slit our throats
an initiation into a gang.
We never once thought that the hours
spent making out – tongues swollen
from crisscrossing, navigating grooves
on the roofs of our mouths –
talking about nothing in particular,
could turn us into ashes and dust.
…
A boy walking on your street
coming home from church early evening
was stabbed to death.
…
We cannot sit at your gate anymore…
they have conquered the night (68-9).
This poem is especially poignant to me, because I was recently robbed at gun point in my home. I don’t live in what would be considered a ‘bad’ neighborhood. My neighborhood is inhabited by middle class families who pay their taxes every year and are on time with their loans and mortgages and credit card payments, but have to adorn their houses with the names of security companies to feel safe. But I still remember when I would sit on my wall with my neighbors or friends without worrying about the time or if we knew who was walking by or who was driving that car. Now, once it gets dark we lock all doors and windows – everything to keep the badman dem at bay. Further, this poem gives a middle class perspective without devaluing the urban culture. She is simply sharing her Jamaica.
Regardless of the violence or declining feeling of safety, there’s no place like home and Shirley shares this sentiment in Sunday Ritual.
Sundays were always hard on the heart, easy on the pen.
I was never a poet then, just a girl
longing to be home.
…
Here you must turn food into language.
Cook tin ackee and fresh codfish
until the aroma says,
“Mawning, how you do? Long time no see.”
On Sundays the heater is set to sunshine
and with…
sweat trickling past my navel…
I curl up and die another day in this place (63-4).
Being in a foreign land can bring up many emotions, positive and negative. But being able to use the pen or food or language can ease the pain of distance and comfort you in times of distress or when longing for a familiar routine.
Not only does Shirley deal with being in a foreign land, she also deals with foreigners in her land. In Insomnia, Imperialism and a Few Good Mongrels on page 62, Shirley tackles the issue of mistresses, wives and the gossip culture in Jamaica. An Ambassador from over there has to end his relationship with a woman from over here when rumors spread to his wife over there. The wife quickly moves to live permanently with her husband over here.
An ambassador from over there wrote his neighbours
a letter (true, true story). They were to stop
their dogs from barking after 8 p.m.
Over here we never hear that before
How do you silence dogs?
The same way they silence people over there
Say that again. You say it funny
Say it again. Where are you from?
Again, again, again…
…
Dogs…do not fear the accent of their bark.
Here, Mr. Ambassador, when you lie with one of us
even the dogs will call you out.
This poem is subversive and delightful. It reminds me of a lecture given by the novelist Earl Lovelace, who challenged us to find civilized ways to rebel. He argued that with greater access to the means to elevate yourself from your socio-economic circumstances, the need to aspire to a high culture is no longer necessary. And that without the ‘high culture’, anyone and everyone can and will rebel in a way that suits them regardless of the needs/desires of the society. Nonetheless, Shirley takes up Lovelace’s challenge and uses her bark civilly.
Another poem that highlights Shirley’s fearlessness and willingness to discuss issues that are taboo in Jamaican society is Negotiation on page 40.
Yes, I know,
I am beautiful.
My mother tells me frequently.
Yes, I know,
The way I move my waist is magic.
I am from the Caribbean.
Yes, it does excite me,
that you promise to perform cunnilingus.
I hear I am sweet like mango.
But what else will you bring to the table?
…
Do you give to the indigent?
Do you know the meaning of that word?
Do you work? Do you dream?
…
And don’t think I forgot,
do you have a big dick?
Our culture is one that opposes the public display or knowledge of different types of sexuality; homosexuality, oral sex, etc. are deemed inappropriate. But Shirley writes about these issues without giving precedence to the cultural realities and that is both refreshing and terrifying.
Although refreshing, Shirley’s collection is short. On finishing my initial read, I wanted more. Wanted to be taken into her experience even further and revel at the way she turns her experiences into seemingly simple lines that on further inspection are filled with meaning. For example, in What I Learned in Grenada, she writes
I said, “Hello.
my name is Tanya.”
She said, “I dig up Tania outside.
Go down on my knees
dig my hands into the earth
pull tania out…
So you never knew
you were ground provision?”
No, but I always knew
I was deepert
than the life I’m living
Now, I keep thinking
what it means to be one
with the earth, to face each day
with the threat of being eaten (15).
Finally, Shirley’s collection has shown me that writing does not have to be obscure. Poetry can be relatable without losing its strength. It was an exciting read as Shirley expresses an experience very close to mine and handles painful memories with humor thereby bringing the reader into her experiences and philosophy with each carefully crafted line.
The collection begins with a poem that bears the name of the collection:
I’ve now become an unwilling seer…
My mother could see from the back
of her head, the enemy approaching
She deciphered the codes of dreams
and scared children with her prophecies
of parents drowning.
I decided long ago I would never
grow into her…
But still the curse chose me (1).
Shirley is a watcher woman, burdened by the dreams of her mother, grandmother and perhaps even great grandmother. This poems sets the tone for the book and evokes a journey into the metaphysical realm to which Shirley is unwilling to travel, but has to endure for the sake of the reader.
Further, Shirley’s journey is not just a metaphysical one, it is one that is deeply rooted in her experience living in the city. In Perhaps if I loved you more, I would risk my life, she writes
We used to sit in my car outside your gate
for hours; we never thought of robbers or hosts
or men clothed in blood-thirsty shirts,
threatening khaki pants
ready to pounce, slit our throats
an initiation into a gang.
We never once thought that the hours
spent making out – tongues swollen
from crisscrossing, navigating grooves
on the roofs of our mouths –
talking about nothing in particular,
could turn us into ashes and dust.
…
A boy walking on your street
coming home from church early evening
was stabbed to death.
…
We cannot sit at your gate anymore…
they have conquered the night (68-9).
This poem is especially poignant to me, because I was recently robbed at gun point in my home. I don’t live in what would be considered a ‘bad’ neighborhood. My neighborhood is inhabited by middle class families who pay their taxes every year and are on time with their loans and mortgages and credit card payments, but have to adorn their houses with the names of security companies to feel safe. But I still remember when I would sit on my wall with my neighbors or friends without worrying about the time or if we knew who was walking by or who was driving that car. Now, once it gets dark we lock all doors and windows – everything to keep the badman dem at bay. Further, this poem gives a middle class perspective without devaluing the urban culture. She is simply sharing her Jamaica.
Regardless of the violence or declining feeling of safety, there’s no place like home and Shirley shares this sentiment in Sunday Ritual.
Sundays were always hard on the heart, easy on the pen.
I was never a poet then, just a girl
longing to be home.
…
Here you must turn food into language.
Cook tin ackee and fresh codfish
until the aroma says,
“Mawning, how you do? Long time no see.”
On Sundays the heater is set to sunshine
and with…
sweat trickling past my navel…
I curl up and die another day in this place (63-4).
Being in a foreign land can bring up many emotions, positive and negative. But being able to use the pen or food or language can ease the pain of distance and comfort you in times of distress or when longing for a familiar routine.
Not only does Shirley deal with being in a foreign land, she also deals with foreigners in her land. In Insomnia, Imperialism and a Few Good Mongrels on page 62, Shirley tackles the issue of mistresses, wives and the gossip culture in Jamaica. An Ambassador from over there has to end his relationship with a woman from over here when rumors spread to his wife over there. The wife quickly moves to live permanently with her husband over here.
An ambassador from over there wrote his neighbours
a letter (true, true story). They were to stop
their dogs from barking after 8 p.m.
Over here we never hear that before
How do you silence dogs?
The same way they silence people over there
Say that again. You say it funny
Say it again. Where are you from?
Again, again, again…
…
Dogs…do not fear the accent of their bark.
Here, Mr. Ambassador, when you lie with one of us
even the dogs will call you out.
This poem is subversive and delightful. It reminds me of a lecture given by the novelist Earl Lovelace, who challenged us to find civilized ways to rebel. He argued that with greater access to the means to elevate yourself from your socio-economic circumstances, the need to aspire to a high culture is no longer necessary. And that without the ‘high culture’, anyone and everyone can and will rebel in a way that suits them regardless of the needs/desires of the society. Nonetheless, Shirley takes up Lovelace’s challenge and uses her bark civilly.
Another poem that highlights Shirley’s fearlessness and willingness to discuss issues that are taboo in Jamaican society is Negotiation on page 40.
Yes, I know,
I am beautiful.
My mother tells me frequently.
Yes, I know,
The way I move my waist is magic.
I am from the Caribbean.
Yes, it does excite me,
that you promise to perform cunnilingus.
I hear I am sweet like mango.
But what else will you bring to the table?
…
Do you give to the indigent?
Do you know the meaning of that word?
Do you work? Do you dream?
…
And don’t think I forgot,
do you have a big dick?
Our culture is one that opposes the public display or knowledge of different types of sexuality; homosexuality, oral sex, etc. are deemed inappropriate. But Shirley writes about these issues without giving precedence to the cultural realities and that is both refreshing and terrifying.
Although refreshing, Shirley’s collection is short. On finishing my initial read, I wanted more. Wanted to be taken into her experience even further and revel at the way she turns her experiences into seemingly simple lines that on further inspection are filled with meaning. For example, in What I Learned in Grenada, she writes
I said, “Hello.
my name is Tanya.”
She said, “I dig up Tania outside.
Go down on my knees
dig my hands into the earth
pull tania out…
So you never knew
you were ground provision?”
No, but I always knew
I was deepert
than the life I’m living
Now, I keep thinking
what it means to be one
with the earth, to face each day
with the threat of being eaten (15).
Finally, Shirley’s collection has shown me that writing does not have to be obscure. Poetry can be relatable without losing its strength. It was an exciting read as Shirley expresses an experience very close to mine and handles painful memories with humor thereby bringing the reader into her experiences and philosophy with each carefully crafted line.
August 9, 2012
I would not have expected myself to like something so knit through with sexual metaphors.
But I did.
The way in which she uses words and concepts, makes it something alive and spiritual, rather than degrading or shocking.
Potent poetry.
But I did.
The way in which she uses words and concepts, makes it something alive and spiritual, rather than degrading or shocking.
Potent poetry.
May 13, 2024
Tanya Shirley's She who Sleeps with Bones was my first book from a Carrabean author. I bought the second collection on Kindle at the same time and I'm glad I did.
She has a unique, deep voice. I love how personnal, yet universal, her poems are, with unique pieces she dedicated to people close to her and a play with sexual metaphors.
I'm definitely adding Tanya Shirley to my list of favourite poets.
She has a unique, deep voice. I love how personnal, yet universal, her poems are, with unique pieces she dedicated to people close to her and a play with sexual metaphors.
I'm definitely adding Tanya Shirley to my list of favourite poets.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews