Reviews

Not Even This: Poetry, parenthood and living uncertainly by Jack Underwood

ageorge1877's review

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4.0

Nice. NICE. This was the hardest my brain has had to work for like a year and it felt GOOD!

This series of essays combines the hardfucking, mind-drilling business of epistemology and poetry with a beautifully dewy-eyed and tender account of becoming a parent for the first time. In some passages, those three subjects flow and ping off each other like the Salah, Mane and Firmino of old. Other times it feels a bit more disjointed, but usually in a 'yhhhh alright go on then' kinda way.

There's some Big Business thinkin to be done here. Black holes, language, money and silliness. Almost threw up reading about relativity on the train. And imagine being 2 years old and realising for the first time that you used to Not Exist??? Utterly horrifying stuff, but any time it gets too hard and brain-hurty Underwood rewards us with an unspeakably touching paragraph about his daughter learning what a cash register is.

Such a fascinating account of a tiny mind developing in real time. It's really cool to see a philosophy book that's so grounded in real human experience, and one that offers us such an inspiring and timely message;;;

Give up! Uncertainty is good! There is no knowing without first not-knowing! Let's leave our frightened, reductive world behind and see what this consciousness can REALLY do!

mcfade28's review

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4.0

I really loved this. Essentially a collection of essays and poetry from a man who adapts to parenthood. Despite the fact I am not a parent, I really identified with his deep anxiety surrounding his daughter and his urge to shield her. This book really touched me, wish it was much longer.

Also bonus points for being the first book I've read to mention COVID 19. That gave me a jolt and I instantly flicked back to the front of the book to check the publication date!

emsemsems's review

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5.0

‘The striatum, and the orbitofrontal cortex, and the insula can do what they want, but money is not like love. Money is a toy…Love is a cough in the hedge. Love is procrastination over the act of dying. Love is marsupial and sexy on a hinge. Give it what it wants. Tender its direction with a wet thumb and a savings account. Put it in your mouth, for God’s sake. Put your thumb in the pie and pop out the plum. Nothing else for me. I’m cooked on both sides. I’m done. I love you.’

This. Is. Fucking. Fantastic. I want to get a copy each for the people I care about (even those who ‘don’t like reading’ – because (excuse the inner art ho coming out) the cover itself is glorious. You have to read to about ½ way through, and then stop, touch your chin for art’s sake, and spend a few minutes just checking the cover out; I promise it hits different). The way I see it – I stand by what I’ve written on my last ‘reading update’ – that this is a very heart-warming, soul-stirring literary lasagne served with the silliest, but most endearing oven mitts. It’s not all about parenthood, but there’s a good amount about it. I’m not a parent, and I don’t plan to ever have kids of my own, but I was definitely not immune to what this book had to offer – esp. in the second half . It made my heart turn into a fluffy, pastel-coloured mess with wiggly eyes – crying glitter like an exploded craft-box – much like a Furby experiencing human feelings and acting all silly and strange.

‘The economy does seem a bit like the quantum world, with its weather system of probabilities, it’s awareness of how observers ‘spook’ and inflect upon the observed, and its reliance on symbolic manoeuvres of uncertain computation that describe a reality one can never encounter, always at one remove.’

‘Shakespeare waving his sonneteering prowess round, a smooth, virtuoso fuck-boy, gunning for his place in eternity, his lover written over…He didn’t know it would happen, he wished it for them, he chanced that hope, as an in-joke between them. Only a poem after all. Only fourteen lines to fight the rest of time…That’s not showing off. That’s desperate…It’s our own sad and futile plea. Our dark little in-joke, which we sleep beside, and worry about and rearticulate into currency more than anything else.’


Proper/updated RTC soon; I don’t know how/where to start – I need to arrange and condense (a whole mess) the notes that I’ve written into a compact, and easy-to-digest review.

cecilie_flohr's review

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adventurous inspiring reflective slow-paced

3.5

sparksinthevoid's review

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4.0

i'll never experience fatherhood, and also hopefully never parenthood, and yet this book was a delight.

i might be a bit biased because jack is one of my tutors (i truly hope he never finds this) and the whole time i was reading this i've just had his voice actually saying these words in my mind (the blood-orange sun especially is a nice memory).

while i do have to say that most of the physics/maths/philosophical conversations went over my head (which, as a uni student worries me,,,, i should be smarter, lol), the parts in which jack addressed his daughter were extremely well done. it was incredible how much vulnerability he showed.

(also,, not me tearing up bc of the end of the world dream BYE)

ohmate's review

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hopeful informative inspiring reflective

5.0

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