In honor of national poetry month (hooray for April!), we will be featuring a poetry book review once a week. This week’s pick: Her Side of It, by Marilyn Bushman-Carlton.
Several months ago, I read Carol Ann Duffy‘s The World’s Wife. While I love the collection, when I finished I felt emotionally raw. I needed a break from the strong feminist flavor of Duffy’s work.
That’s when I picked up a copy of Marilyn Bushman-Carlton‘s Her Side of It (Signature Books, 2010). Bushman-Carlton’s book is mint tea to Duffy’s black coffee.
Particularly refreshing in this 119-page collection are Bushman-Carlton’s innovative word choice and subtle, insistent feminism. The combination of surprising diction and consistent tapping at the glass ceiling make this volume worth reading and rereading. (Personally, I read it through once and immediately started rereading it, a couple poems at a time, to savor them.)
Bushman-Carlton’s poems are accessible. She writes about familiar subjects, such as children and grandchildren, changing seasons, music, and she chooses her words and images with precise care. She also includes poems on subjects that delight and surprise: (Oh, you CAN write a whole poem about men’s neckties, the history of the guillotine, or the awkward moment when the starched and stuffy home ec teacher demonstrates over her clothes the correct way to put on a bra.)
If you’re a feminist, or thinking about becoming one, I heartily recommend you buy—and read—this book. You won’t be disappointed. Even if you’re not a feminist, you’ll be able to enjoy Bushman-Carlton’s imagination (picture yourself as a lady-in-waiting to Mary Queen of Scots), the ways she plays with form (please see “Girl on a Wing”—it’s splendid), and the general deliciousness of Bushman-Carlton’s imagery. Here’s a small taste:
Let little birds do what they do.
Let the rain of little girls’ voices
flood alleys and cracks.
Let their elfish tunes—
their excited diminutive chatter,
like tiny bursts of confetti—flutter.
Let, oh let,
their two-and-a-half-year-old voices
purr. . . .
;
*excerpt from “Let Little Girls Sing,” page 82.
;