A review by beverleyh
Knock by Melissa Atkinson Mercer
4.0
Going into Knock, I had little idea of what to expect and so I went in completely fresh and let myself be swept along by the words on the page. Soon, I was whisked into a world that hinted of something magical and otherworldly, yet was rooted in plumbing the depths of the human mind with all its urgency and melancholy.
The collection has an air of simmering tension around it, creeping notes of something haunting yet wildly mesmerising. The pages are home to an abundance of imagery, sometimes confusing and requiring second reading but mostly rich and evocative. The words sing from the page, loudly, firmly. They sing of suffering and healing and truth. Each word carefully selected and arranged, imploring you to listen, just listen.
Reading was simultaneously like trying to stay afloat, gulping down mouthfuls of water, and then: a breath of fresh air, a sigh of relief. Here I am, this is who I am and what I have to say, the voices in the book whisper, like a bird breaking free of its chains, shaking its wings and finding flight, soaring into the sky.
The collection maintains a steady pace, gathering momentum and crescendoing in the third section – my absolute favourite – which is aptly named ‘v. to collide’. Here, the poetry is lucid and sharp, breaking down and reconciling. It becomes a relentless dialogue: persistent questioning answered by a voice that is stronger, more insistent. A worthy, emphatic finale.
Ultimately, the words deftly threaded together transcend out of the shadowy depths into something light and almost free and hopeful. They come together into a collection of poetry that is shrouded in a sense of urgency, constantly pushing and pulling, giving and resisting.
The collection has an air of simmering tension around it, creeping notes of something haunting yet wildly mesmerising. The pages are home to an abundance of imagery, sometimes confusing and requiring second reading but mostly rich and evocative. The words sing from the page, loudly, firmly. They sing of suffering and healing and truth. Each word carefully selected and arranged, imploring you to listen, just listen.
Reading was simultaneously like trying to stay afloat, gulping down mouthfuls of water, and then: a breath of fresh air, a sigh of relief. Here I am, this is who I am and what I have to say, the voices in the book whisper, like a bird breaking free of its chains, shaking its wings and finding flight, soaring into the sky.
The collection maintains a steady pace, gathering momentum and crescendoing in the third section – my absolute favourite – which is aptly named ‘v. to collide’. Here, the poetry is lucid and sharp, breaking down and reconciling. It becomes a relentless dialogue: persistent questioning answered by a voice that is stronger, more insistent. A worthy, emphatic finale.
Ultimately, the words deftly threaded together transcend out of the shadowy depths into something light and almost free and hopeful. They come together into a collection of poetry that is shrouded in a sense of urgency, constantly pushing and pulling, giving and resisting.