A review by darrin
Girl with Death Mask by Jennifer Givhan

5.0

Randomly selecting books of poetry from the new books shelf with my eyes closed has been eye-opening. The last several books of poetry I have selected have been by authors that have worldviews and experiences that are different from mine and that is good.

I need to re-checkout [b:The Cold and the Rust: Poems|35237929|The Cold and the Rust Poems|Emily Van Kley|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1497634323s/35237929.jpg|56587185] by [a:Emily Van Kley|8251300|Emily Van Kley|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png] which is the book I read previous to this one, because it was one of my favorites so far this year and while I started a review, I did not finish it and I had to return the book to the library.

But this is not that book and not that review. [b:Girl with Death Mask|36482606|Girl with Death Mask|Jennifer Givhan|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1509048622s/36482606.jpg|58193157] by [a:Jennifer Givhan|15002839|Jennifer Givhan|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1491018925p2/15002839.jpg] is not a book of poetry I would have chosen if I had not randomly selected it for myself. Jennifer Givhan is a Mexican American writer living New Mexico and she writes about growing up, the difficulties and complexities of being an adolescent and becoming an adult woman with children. She writes about first periods, sexual trauma, abuse, her relationship with her mother, raising children, her body, her boyfriends and lovers.

Two years ago when I consciously set out to read poetry and joined the Poetry Readers Challenge group I would have said this is all new to me...but it isn't now and when I start reading a new book of poetry by a poet I have never read before and learn more about the poet, her writing style and her poems, I get excited for the newness and how this poet and book of poems will be different from the last.

Givhan has a completely different perspective on life in America and her milieu is a southwestern desert community that is culturally different from mine which is why I enjoyed this book so much. I love this one....

Mexican Wedding Cookies

We could road trip to Tennessee from New Mexico
the kids & I we could be brave they think I'm brave
we could unroll our bags & throw our chanclas in the grass
we could barefoot it we could unlearn the constellations
& learn them again unhitch their stories from their names
like the names I've taken into my belly & rolled dough
like masa to my mouth through my cervix I've
unbound them I've squatted toward
cement toward asphalt & thick summer air
squelching in my lungs not enough for the work not enough
we could love something ridiculous we could mix pecans
& flour & sugar into balls in our hands then scoop them
onto sheets in the oven sprinkle them in powder
white as that dress I swore I needed we could unbind ourselves
from kitchens from messes from our mama's ideas of what
we need for happiness for luck
for sweetness on our tongues
we could do it I've heard a recipe for letting go tastes
eerily similar to holding on the difference in the butter
or the temperature or the salt in the batter but we know
I'm lying all the things we could & why Tennessee -


I love the humor and self realization in the above poem and particularly the last line.

The following poem is a bit morbid but excellent just the same. There are many poems that have this dark, somewhat tragic feel to them especially centered around being a girl and and adolescent girl.

Daughter Lace Your Fingers to the Sky

Still you could not keep her
from the dance our bodies dance

when we let the boys take us
out to the country

& oh the moon may have been full
& oh the hay may have smelled sweet

as lighted sky & sweetened earth
silhouette backseats

Even through death masks
we can kiss & skin pierces fabric

She let the girls in the stalls & the jeers
in the halls & the slut

on the walls twine her neck bones
string her atop a chair

but her dog didn't bark & no one knocked
& God didn't boast of angels

& you Mother found her swinging
from the doorframe