blewellyntaylor's review against another edition
5.0
This collection of poems is alive, haunted, and haunting. Miller commemorates the war over bodies between the sacred and profane, her speakers often caught somewhere in the midst—protesting, pulsing, participating. “My nakedness is nothing holy,” Miller writes, and throughout Ceremonial all that is divine are small moments lifted high before “ceremonies bitter.” Suspense drives these devotionals to the human, blurring the way a body becomes a contested site: “You’re thinking terror—/you should hope for pleasure.” I was both moved and “too bothered/to move” while reading Miller’s phenomenal collection. I expect to find myself humbled in the same way when I return to this book of prayers.
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