First Reads: Like A Fat Gold Watch

I have a confession to make: I have not read much of Sylvia Plath. I remember reading The Bell Jar in high school, but as a poet, I have not spent much time with her work other than the “famous” poems. Not because I don’t  like what I do know – on the contrary. I have taught and treasured “The Mirror” for years, and the sounds in “Mushrooms” have been a textbook on sonics for me.

But in reading the new anthology Like a Fat Gold Watch: Meditations On Sylvia Plath and Living, I realized how much of Plath’s work and life I do NOT know. This new anthology, edited by Christine Hamm, is a digest of response to and literary conversation about Plath’s poems that both introduced me to Plath in a new way and also to new writers. As I did in my initial First Reads post, I will not seek here to intellectually dissect the anthology but to give my impressions upon first read: what jumped out at me, what I enjoyed, what I will want to return to again.

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The Big Picture: In her introduction editor Hamm writes, “Plath’s work is a rebellion against the rigid prison of femininity identity–she writes about ugly, impossible, unpleasant, threatening things. The ugly female body, its scars, its blood, its hunger.” This sets up the scope of the anthology as well as pushes against the vision of Plath as “the saint of emo teenage girls and self-harming woman,” preparing the reader for multiple contexts in which the contributors have experienced and responded to Plath’s work.

Structure: The anthology has each author’s bio and a brief statement about their included work as a preface to the work itself. I enjoyed this structure as it allowed me to know a little about the writers and how they had engaged with Plath before I read. I had never seen this before–author notes and bios usually are placed at the end of an anthology –but this structure was interesting to me, especially since I didn’t know some of the Plath references. Many of the contributors are Plath scholars, and this intense scrutiny of her work has inspired me to be a better student of poetry in general.

The Variety of Responses: I had imagined that the anthology would be all poems, but it is not. Poems are here, yes, and good ones (I’ll mention some favorites later), but there are also essays, short stories, visual art, & explications of Plath poems. The poems themselves take several different forms from free verse to a sonnet crown to complicated collage work. The variety made the anthology well-paced and engaging.

 

The Quality of the Work:  There is much to love here, and I cannot quote every piece, but I will highlight a few pieces to which I know I will return. Tasha R. Cotter’s essay “Explication of Three Ariel Poems” was both intelligent and interesting, something hard to find in critical essay. I will now attend to these three poems with Cotter’s essay as a guide and a touchstone for my own opinions. Lisa Cole’s poem “The Truth Pulled From Her Mouth” is lovely, ominous and hopeful all at once, ending with “To become that which hurts us/is to thrive, to conquer.”  J. Hope Stein’s poem “Ted & Sylvia” offers a glimpse both into the relationship between Plath and Hughes and into the speaker’s relationship and desire to be Sylvia: “When we first met,/you asked me to be Ted./& I said to myself, come on,/what would Sylvia do?/When I say SPRING I mean SPRING.” Angela Veronica Wong’s “In Spring” provides masterful line breaks and stunning lines like “My crabheart scuttles like a nightmare.” And Sarah Busse’s “Four Letters to Sylvia” are both homages to the poet and their own universes of words: “Dear genius, dead girl, what can I tell you of sea/or moon, more than you know?”

A good anthology not only draws a thread thematically but allows each individual piece its own space to create a world. Like a Fat Gold Watch does this quite well, giving each piece the opportunity to shine on its own merits as well as enter a larger conversation with a poet who most people know of, but now will want to know more deeply.  I recommend this anthology not only to anyone who already has a relationship with Plath’s work, but also to Plath “novices” like myself. I guarantee that you will enjoy this collection either way.

 

 

 

First Reads: Rocket Fantastic

In the claustrophobic space of a airline seat, I opened a book and was transported to a panoramic world.  Stag & fox, love & desire, tenderness & demand. The major general & the bandleader, the angel & the location, the neck & and the twang. It was an oddly-wonderful place for a first reading of Gabrielle Calvocoressi’s Rocket Fantastic, a collection that I will certainly return to for a much deeper investigation. But even on first read, I was immediately struck by four “practices” or “devices” (for lack of more intelligent terms):

The repetition of not only images and key words/terms, but repetition of exact lines in utterly new contexts. I have read many collections where images cycle, but I don’t recall any in recent memory that have used the same lines.This practice, which happens a few times in the book, worked for me like an echo, bouncing a voice or idea  back to me in a way that was both familiar and disconcerting, like motifs in a symphony where the key has changed from major to minor.

The form-switching throughout the collection. Some poems are structured in “traditional” stanzas, some spread across the page with large and purposeful white space, and some are in prose blocks. Each form seems perfectly suited for its inhabitants and its purpose, choices that I want to learn from in terms of choosing the most organic forms for my own poems.

The symbol that Calvocoressi has chosen to use as a genderless pronoun for one of the inhabitants of the poems (the Bandleader), which I do not know how to recreate on my keyboard, along with the use of “whose” as a substitute for the possessive and object pronouns usually associated with gender. The author describes the symbol as “a confluence of genders in varying degrees […] simultaneously encompassing and fluctuating.” At first I thought the symbol would be troublesome as a reader, but instead it allowed me to experience the poems in my own way instead of just the speaker’s.

The choices of proper titles for some of the inhabitants of the poems – the Bandleader, the Major General, the Dowager. Using these titles rather than names allowed me to bring my own preconceptions  and expectations about those words to the poems and then have them shattered, questioned, or twisted.

And these are just structural/craft matters that I want to explore! The content of the poems is also rich, textured & filled with the joy, pain, & longing of being human in a world that is at turns both beautiful and frightening. I usually know after a first read whether a book is one I will return to again and again. The answer here is definitely a resounding yes.

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You can follow Gabrielle Calvocoressi on Twitter at @rocketfantastic.

Her wonderful interview with Rachel Zucker on Commonplace Podcast can be found here

Purchase Rocket Fantastic here

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First Reads will hopefully be a regular feature here. I often write reviews for other venues which require multiple readings and copious notes, but I think that there is also merit in articulating first impressions as most of us don’t have the time to re-read books unless they speak to us in a way that calls us back.