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zoeelisabeth's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
emotional
funny
informative
inspiring
reflective
sad
fast-paced
4.0
mhouslanger's review against another edition
4.0
i don't know if i'd stand behind my goodreads rating and claim every poem is a 4-star poem, but this is one hell of a book, and this is what i got right now, with the limited lexicon of goodreads, as far as tools of description go. and i've also got the itch to talk about this book real bad right now, so here we go.
i first encountered chessy normile's poems in the american poetry review about a year ago. i liked them a lot, but didn't think i was going to seek out her collection. i saw her read a month ago and instantly changed my mind, and now i'm trying to come up with words to tell you how this book cracked something open for me. in grad school i had this one teacher who read my poems and told me i was holding something back, and i didn't understand what she meant at the time. she asked me if i often make dark jokes with my friends, and i said how the hell did you know that just from reading my entirely not-funny poems. at the time, i couldn't really imagine what a funny poem---like, not a poem *trying* to be funny or cute, or a clever poem---an *actual* funny poem might look like. i knew i was sometimes very funny, and i knew i also wrote a lot of Serious Poems, and my jokes and poems were always about the same things, yet the mere suggestion that those two modes of expression might be able to coexist was something i had never considered before, and didn't know that i could find my way to.
chessy normile seems to have been born there. and this book to me feels like the roadmap i fell short of imagining. i feel lucky it fell into my hands by chance, when i hadn't previously planned on reading it, and a little bit like i'm getting away with something, which is a fun thing for a poem to make me feel. these aren't "just funny poems"; they are written with such a sly intelligence and skill that it almost feels like sleight-of-hand, but not the kind of sleight-of-hand where i feel like the poet is trying to make me feel dumb and/or show me how smart they think they are, a kind of sleight-of-hand that leaves me a little breathless, laughing a little with disbelief, like i've just witnessed an act of magic. i don't normally enjoy magicians, but now i'm imagining that this must be how the people who do must feel. like you've just witnessed another human being showing you that there's a wider range of possibilities than you'd thought before, and what's more, they're inviting you to the party too.
i first encountered chessy normile's poems in the american poetry review about a year ago. i liked them a lot, but didn't think i was going to seek out her collection. i saw her read a month ago and instantly changed my mind, and now i'm trying to come up with words to tell you how this book cracked something open for me. in grad school i had this one teacher who read my poems and told me i was holding something back, and i didn't understand what she meant at the time. she asked me if i often make dark jokes with my friends, and i said how the hell did you know that just from reading my entirely not-funny poems. at the time, i couldn't really imagine what a funny poem---like, not a poem *trying* to be funny or cute, or a clever poem---an *actual* funny poem might look like. i knew i was sometimes very funny, and i knew i also wrote a lot of Serious Poems, and my jokes and poems were always about the same things, yet the mere suggestion that those two modes of expression might be able to coexist was something i had never considered before, and didn't know that i could find my way to.
chessy normile seems to have been born there. and this book to me feels like the roadmap i fell short of imagining. i feel lucky it fell into my hands by chance, when i hadn't previously planned on reading it, and a little bit like i'm getting away with something, which is a fun thing for a poem to make me feel. these aren't "just funny poems"; they are written with such a sly intelligence and skill that it almost feels like sleight-of-hand, but not the kind of sleight-of-hand where i feel like the poet is trying to make me feel dumb and/or show me how smart they think they are, a kind of sleight-of-hand that leaves me a little breathless, laughing a little with disbelief, like i've just witnessed an act of magic. i don't normally enjoy magicians, but now i'm imagining that this must be how the people who do must feel. like you've just witnessed another human being showing you that there's a wider range of possibilities than you'd thought before, and what's more, they're inviting you to the party too.
ostrowk's review against another edition
5.0
Laugh, cry, spit up your lunch, and pirouette on a thimble.
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