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4.22 AVERAGE
4.22 AVERAGE
An economy of words to describe the bones of Harjo’s upbringing and her glimpses into a different, artistic future.
I'm a big fan of Harjo's poetry and this memoir has been on my TBR list for a long time. It did not disappoint. She is a force--spiritually and artistically--to make it through all that was put in front of her path as a poet, musician and artist.
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
An inspirational memoir. Inspiring, serious, and true. If Joy can overcome life's circumstances gee, can't we all. My other take aways? Domestic violence and abusive men are rampant, and we must help women find their own way.
Poet and Native American Jo Harjo writes lyrically about her difficult childhood in the Midwest. Her stepfather was an abusive alcoholic; she faced extreme challenges as a Native American and pretty much raised two children on her own. While she recalls these horrific moments in her past she’s also hauntingly philosophical and forgiving. She writes: “In the end, we must each tend to our own gulf of sadness, though others can assist us with kindness, food, good words, and music. Our human tendency is to fill these holes with distractions like shopping and fast romance, or with drugs and alcohol.” She also intersperses her tribe’s beliefs but never in an overbearing manner. About having a spinal tap in her youth, she writes: “The spinal column carries personal essence back and forth between earth and sky. The spine is powerful and vulnerable. The procedure was excruciating.” She’s a powerful voice for women and minorities; a truly beautiful soul.
This is a beautifully written memoir by a poet which shows in how she crafts her words. It is a painful story but one that is important.
I so loved Harjo's world of metaphor, poetry, and spirit. Her stories reminded me that ancestors influence us especially through the stories we carry on from them.
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
Amazing book with beautiful prose. A must read!
I had hoped for something more lyrical, but this felt all too familiar: images of a poet as a young girl. The prologue was promising, looking upon her birth from above and being seized with a sense of all history converging in an instant, that was compelling but soon we embark on we only had this to eat, and my stepfather was a tyrant. Perhaps her time at indigenous art school could have tightened the focus?
I will certainly explore more of her verse.
I will certainly explore more of her verse.