A review by jenibus
Poisoned Apples: Poems for You, My Pretty by Christine Heppermann
2.0
I think I have to come to terms with the fact that maybe poetry isn't and never will be a thing I "get." Throughout most of my schooling I found myself growing bored whenever poetry analyzation occurred, understanding the meaning in the verse but never being affected by it. I had assumed that the issue was less to do with my own literary palette and more to do with the subject matter. But then along comes Poisoned Apples, a collection of poems retelling classic fairy tales but putting a modern feminist twist to them and my interest is piqued. The subject matter seems to fit perfectly: fairy tales often served as moral lessons to teach youth how they are expected to behave in society, and the female subjects of said tales are ripe for reinterpretation. If ever there was to be poetry fit for me to enjoy it would be this collection.
And yet fifty poems later I found myself only disappointed, unsure of why. At first I thought it was the age range: all the poems' subjects are teenagers commenting on what feels like teenage problems. But I've read many a YA novel that focused on just that and have given them praise for getting into the teenage mind so skillfully. Perhaps instead I felt that the feminist issues Heppermann chose to comment on in her poems were not relevant. That also wasn't the case. Heppermann mainly chose to comment on the unfair expectations thrust upon women, particularly teenage girls, when it comes to physical beauty. This examination ties in quiet nicely with fairy tales in general. Good women are kind of face and heart, tormented by the ugly stepsisters and wicked queens who attempt to better their own appearances to achieve greatness. This tied in with our modern expectations of female beauty expertly. But it still didn't affect me.
I think the main culprit of my disappointment came from the claim of fairy tale retellings. Each one of the fifty poems relates to a corresponding fairy tale, but I found that the connection was superficial at best. More often than not I found myself struggling to decipher what fairy tale was supposed to be referenced in each poem. And even when I could tell what fairy tale we were referencing (it's a little difficult to miss the connection with poems entitled "Rapunzel" or "Blow Your House In") I struggled even further to elevate the text and understand how the original fairy tale tied in with the meaning of the poem. The word "superficial" comes to mind again. The fairy tales are nothing but a veneer finish painted over the words, whereas I wanted them to be the driving force behind the meaning.
Earlier I praised the feminist subject matter as well fitting the fairy tale concepts, and I do stand by that claim. Modern beauty expectations do tie in nicely with fairy tale morals, but I found the critiques and messages in these poems to be... rather small. We comment on things like how Abercrombie and Fitch are horribly fake and perpetuate negative body image within their teenage consumers, how men would behave if they got periods and had to deal with PMS, and the hypocrisy in how we treat teenage boys having sex versus teenage girls. It's not that I disagree with any of the points. Far from it, I agree wholeheartedly. And yet in this context I find myself nothing but bored. Which brings me back to where I began.
I do not believe poetry is perhaps a form of literature I will ever truly appreciate or understand. To those to whom it speaks and connects with, I envy. I wish I could appreciate the effort it takes to properly craft poetic verse, but until that day ever comes, I'll stick to my essays and prose.
And yet fifty poems later I found myself only disappointed, unsure of why. At first I thought it was the age range: all the poems' subjects are teenagers commenting on what feels like teenage problems. But I've read many a YA novel that focused on just that and have given them praise for getting into the teenage mind so skillfully. Perhaps instead I felt that the feminist issues Heppermann chose to comment on in her poems were not relevant. That also wasn't the case. Heppermann mainly chose to comment on the unfair expectations thrust upon women, particularly teenage girls, when it comes to physical beauty. This examination ties in quiet nicely with fairy tales in general. Good women are kind of face and heart, tormented by the ugly stepsisters and wicked queens who attempt to better their own appearances to achieve greatness. This tied in with our modern expectations of female beauty expertly. But it still didn't affect me.
I think the main culprit of my disappointment came from the claim of fairy tale retellings. Each one of the fifty poems relates to a corresponding fairy tale, but I found that the connection was superficial at best. More often than not I found myself struggling to decipher what fairy tale was supposed to be referenced in each poem. And even when I could tell what fairy tale we were referencing (it's a little difficult to miss the connection with poems entitled "Rapunzel" or "Blow Your House In") I struggled even further to elevate the text and understand how the original fairy tale tied in with the meaning of the poem. The word "superficial" comes to mind again. The fairy tales are nothing but a veneer finish painted over the words, whereas I wanted them to be the driving force behind the meaning.
Earlier I praised the feminist subject matter as well fitting the fairy tale concepts, and I do stand by that claim. Modern beauty expectations do tie in nicely with fairy tale morals, but I found the critiques and messages in these poems to be... rather small. We comment on things like how Abercrombie and Fitch are horribly fake and perpetuate negative body image within their teenage consumers, how men would behave if they got periods and had to deal with PMS, and the hypocrisy in how we treat teenage boys having sex versus teenage girls. It's not that I disagree with any of the points. Far from it, I agree wholeheartedly. And yet in this context I find myself nothing but bored. Which brings me back to where I began.
I do not believe poetry is perhaps a form of literature I will ever truly appreciate or understand. To those to whom it speaks and connects with, I envy. I wish I could appreciate the effort it takes to properly craft poetic verse, but until that day ever comes, I'll stick to my essays and prose.