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jvillar3's review against another edition
3.0
Really beautiful writing. Would love to read some of this authors more scholarly works as she touched on quite a few modern issues such as the inequality in higher education
books_tea_blanket's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
inspiring
fast-paced
4.0
I thought the author did a good job tonally of communicating their emotions connected with stories. For instance, the carefreeness of childhood stories, and pain when reflecting on the genocide of her people.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Genocide
valodniece's review
emotional
informative
reflective
slow-paced
3.75
I'm not a poetry reader at all, but needed to dip my toe into the genre for a reading challenge. The poems were heartfelt, the prose sections were purposeful, and it seemed like a good composition of short pieces of work celebrating the Indigenous experience and life.
maximum83's review against another edition
4.0
Really good if you're into things like poetry with symbolism and metaphors and all that. I've just never been a poetry reader so I couldn't get into it myself and didn't end up finishing it. But I have taken enough lit classes to know this is a good book, even if not for me.
thorwantsanotherletter's review against another edition
4.0
A colorful book of prayers about the ways Indigenous people carry on in their lives and bits of wisdom to hold you over. Thank you to WSU Press for sending this to me, this was beautiful.
readrunsea's review against another edition
5.0
I received an ARC from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. Opinions are my own.
WOW. I am left breathless by this poetry collection, by a new-to-me author whose other work I will be seeking out ASAP. This book is so layered in terms of its language, themes, and structure. It spirals around recurring imagery and specific words, and skillfully shows the inherent entwinement of modern Ojibwe life with pre-colonial, ancient Ojibwe life. The collection is thick with imagery, and as a white settler I struggled to grasp some of it; it asked for my careful attention, or rather I asked myself to give it, so this was a slow read for me despite its short length. But I’m so glad I slowed down with it, because it was a very rich reading experience that shored up my respect for Ojibwe and Anishinaabe linguistic forms, which are different from imposed white settler forms. However, it is absolutely readable to those of us steeped in settler language rules, and is written in English.
My favorite poems in this collection are Odatagaagomiinike (Blackberry Picking), A Song for Anny, I Left a Map Through the Diaspora, Harvest Me, Painted Dancers, and Cold Woman. But they are all wonderful and also work together as a whole; reading it feels like being led through many rooms in a spiral, some of them beautiful and calming, some of them cold and hard, and all of them necessary.
I feel like I’m doing a bad job with this review so, with apologies to the publisher, I’m going to quote a few poems from the ARC so that the writing can speak for itself re: how Beardslee crafts her sentences, lines, and imagery, and for how acutely and skillfully she renders inequality, oppression, and Indigenous resilience and power:
Cranberry-Picking Season: ‘She breathed heavy and dry, coughing up mountaintops and / snowmelt, / While health care and opportunity flushed through her treetops, / Swept past her chilled arteries and internal bedrock, / Gushed past her like transport trucks on a hardened highway to never.’
Hurricane Katrina: ‘They are sitting in a warm September, those Indians... Knowing about the lack of food and water and shelter / Knowing about the lack of opportunities and the lack of jobs used to / justify letting nature / Kill the ‘weak and useless’ / Outlined in a Charles Darwin textbook about banking and finance.’
Ogitchidaakwewag: ‘I will translate our name for you. / It means we are women who do big things. / We have given birth to the future from writing rocks, swirling / currents, snowstorms, and clouds of mosquitos... I will translate our name for you. / It means we have been here forever.’
If it’s not clear, I *highly* recommend this book.
WOW. I am left breathless by this poetry collection, by a new-to-me author whose other work I will be seeking out ASAP. This book is so layered in terms of its language, themes, and structure. It spirals around recurring imagery and specific words, and skillfully shows the inherent entwinement of modern Ojibwe life with pre-colonial, ancient Ojibwe life. The collection is thick with imagery, and as a white settler I struggled to grasp some of it; it asked for my careful attention, or rather I asked myself to give it, so this was a slow read for me despite its short length. But I’m so glad I slowed down with it, because it was a very rich reading experience that shored up my respect for Ojibwe and Anishinaabe linguistic forms, which are different from imposed white settler forms. However, it is absolutely readable to those of us steeped in settler language rules, and is written in English.
My favorite poems in this collection are Odatagaagomiinike (Blackberry Picking), A Song for Anny, I Left a Map Through the Diaspora, Harvest Me, Painted Dancers, and Cold Woman. But they are all wonderful and also work together as a whole; reading it feels like being led through many rooms in a spiral, some of them beautiful and calming, some of them cold and hard, and all of them necessary.
I feel like I’m doing a bad job with this review so, with apologies to the publisher, I’m going to quote a few poems from the ARC so that the writing can speak for itself re: how Beardslee crafts her sentences, lines, and imagery, and for how acutely and skillfully she renders inequality, oppression, and Indigenous resilience and power:
Cranberry-Picking Season: ‘She breathed heavy and dry, coughing up mountaintops and / snowmelt, / While health care and opportunity flushed through her treetops, / Swept past her chilled arteries and internal bedrock, / Gushed past her like transport trucks on a hardened highway to never.’
Hurricane Katrina: ‘They are sitting in a warm September, those Indians... Knowing about the lack of food and water and shelter / Knowing about the lack of opportunities and the lack of jobs used to / justify letting nature / Kill the ‘weak and useless’ / Outlined in a Charles Darwin textbook about banking and finance.’
Ogitchidaakwewag: ‘I will translate our name for you. / It means we are women who do big things. / We have given birth to the future from writing rocks, swirling / currents, snowstorms, and clouds of mosquitos... I will translate our name for you. / It means we have been here forever.’
If it’s not clear, I *highly* recommend this book.
maddiewagner's review
slow-paced
4.0
It took me a while to get into this collection - and I fell out of it a bit at the end, but I'm also not an avid poetry reader. I really LOVED some of the pieces in the middle - especially "Fiction versus Nonfiction," and "On Oral Histories about President Number Sixteen."
readrunsea's review
5.0
I received an ARC from the publisher in exchange for an honest review. Opinions are my own.
WOW. I am left breathless by this poetry collection, by a new-to-me author whose other work I will be seeking out ASAP. This book is so layered in terms of its language, themes, and structure. It spirals around recurring imagery and specific words, and skillfully shows the inherent entwinement of modern Ojibwe life with pre-colonial, ancient Ojibwe life. The collection is thick with imagery, and as a white settler I struggled to grasp some of it; it asked for my careful attention, or rather I asked myself to give it, so this was a slow read for me despite its short length. But I’m so glad I slowed down with it, because it was a very rich reading experience that shored up my respect for Ojibwe and Anishinaabe linguistic forms, which are different from imposed white settler forms. However, it is absolutely readable to those of us steeped in settler language rules, and is written in English.
My favorite poems in this collection are Odatagaagomiinike (Blackberry Picking), A Song for Anny, I Left a Map Through the Diaspora, Harvest Me, Painted Dancers, and Cold Woman. But they are all wonderful and also work together as a whole; reading it feels like being led through many rooms in a spiral, some of them beautiful and calming, some of them cold and hard, and all of them necessary.
I feel like I’m doing a bad job with this review so, with apologies to the publisher, I’m going to quote a few poems from the ARC so that the writing can speak for itself re: how Beardslee crafts her sentences, lines, and imagery, and for how acutely and skillfully she renders inequality, oppression, and Indigenous resilience and power:
Cranberry-Picking Season: ‘She breathed heavy and dry, coughing up mountaintops and / snowmelt, / While health care and opportunity flushed through her treetops, / Swept past her chilled arteries and internal bedrock, / Gushed past her like transport trucks on a hardened highway to never.’
Hurricane Katrina: ‘They are sitting in a warm September, those Indians... Knowing about the lack of food and water and shelter / Knowing about the lack of opportunities and the lack of jobs used to / justify letting nature / Kill the ‘weak and useless’ / Outlined in a Charles Darwin textbook about banking and finance.’
Ogitchidaakwewag: ‘I will translate our name for you. / It means we are women who do big things. / We have given birth to the future from writing rocks, swirling / currents, snowstorms, and clouds of mosquitos... I will translate our name for you. / It means we have been here forever.’
If it’s not clear, I *highly* recommend this book.
WOW. I am left breathless by this poetry collection, by a new-to-me author whose other work I will be seeking out ASAP. This book is so layered in terms of its language, themes, and structure. It spirals around recurring imagery and specific words, and skillfully shows the inherent entwinement of modern Ojibwe life with pre-colonial, ancient Ojibwe life. The collection is thick with imagery, and as a white settler I struggled to grasp some of it; it asked for my careful attention, or rather I asked myself to give it, so this was a slow read for me despite its short length. But I’m so glad I slowed down with it, because it was a very rich reading experience that shored up my respect for Ojibwe and Anishinaabe linguistic forms, which are different from imposed white settler forms. However, it is absolutely readable to those of us steeped in settler language rules, and is written in English.
My favorite poems in this collection are Odatagaagomiinike (Blackberry Picking), A Song for Anny, I Left a Map Through the Diaspora, Harvest Me, Painted Dancers, and Cold Woman. But they are all wonderful and also work together as a whole; reading it feels like being led through many rooms in a spiral, some of them beautiful and calming, some of them cold and hard, and all of them necessary.
I feel like I’m doing a bad job with this review so, with apologies to the publisher, I’m going to quote a few poems from the ARC so that the writing can speak for itself re: how Beardslee crafts her sentences, lines, and imagery, and for how acutely and skillfully she renders inequality, oppression, and Indigenous resilience and power:
Cranberry-Picking Season: ‘She breathed heavy and dry, coughing up mountaintops and / snowmelt, / While health care and opportunity flushed through her treetops, / Swept past her chilled arteries and internal bedrock, / Gushed past her like transport trucks on a hardened highway to never.’
Hurricane Katrina: ‘They are sitting in a warm September, those Indians... Knowing about the lack of food and water and shelter / Knowing about the lack of opportunities and the lack of jobs used to / justify letting nature / Kill the ‘weak and useless’ / Outlined in a Charles Darwin textbook about banking and finance.’
Ogitchidaakwewag: ‘I will translate our name for you. / It means we are women who do big things. / We have given birth to the future from writing rocks, swirling / currents, snowstorms, and clouds of mosquitos... I will translate our name for you. / It means we have been here forever.’
If it’s not clear, I *highly* recommend this book.
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