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i feel exhausted from this. the good kind of course. worth a hundred more re reading just to bask in the intricate and complex, first rate poems.
This collection is a relentless but beautiful journey through despair and back again.
The day I am at peace I will have achieved a kind of peace even I know suggests I am crazy. But, as it will be how I survive, I will not feel so. More poems that beg to be read aloud.
I love these poems. This stays by my bed.
Claudia Rankine is one of the brilliant poets/essayists of our time. Her poetry can be a mix of prose poems and more classical forms and can examine race issues with a painful clarity or delve into the area of emotional life. She is the author of one of my favorite books this year, Citizen: An American Lyric, a mix of forms exploring race relations in America.The End of the Alphabet: Poems is Rankine's second book of poetry. It is dense and painful. Having finished the book once through, I felt
A strange, alienating, vaguely narrative collection that shifts from hesitant intimacy to long cryptic passages. Though such alienation would be better explored inDon't Let Me Be Lonely, the dense, alternately musical and dissonant poetry that explores Jane's desolation ably counters readers who accuse Rankine of writing dry criticism and lacking poetic voice.
To me this started out as dark and moody but gradually lightened towards the end of the book. I don’t read much poetry but I did enjoy this and will read more of her work soon.
I would have abandoned this at the halfway point were it not so slim and quick a read. I just never connected with any of it in any way. For me, somehow the formalism and innovation rendered the emotional almost null and the language entered my eyes as lines and words only to fall out my ears as mere letters.I was blown away by both Citizen: An American Lyric and Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric. If you’re new to Rankine, I would highly recommend these.
I'm not brilliant at reviewing poetry. I can only tell you how it makes me feel. This book is like walking over beautiful glittering glass. So jagged and painful and enticing. Rankine pulled me onto the floor to roll around in the squalor that is despair--the ugliness, the neverendingness, the "too much" of despair. I never figured out a significant incident that triggered the grief, and I was never sure what was trigger and what was result. The effect was the same--as it is with the dark dirty
I found these poems to be rather lifeless, honestly.
3.5 Stars “At first, embarrassed, lumbering beneath the formal poses, the well-cuffed, the combed hairs, the could-not-be-faulted statement of ease, though utterly and depleted, closing the door behind, for in this, the distance—wanting and the body losing, all the time losing, beforehand, inside.” These poems are gorgeously and vividly written with a rhythm that I find especially appealing and interesting. But I also find them to be very dense. Rankin’s poems are the kind you have to sit with...
Idk I can't really understand poetry all the time so I won't rate this book but ogle this phrase: "the thickened bones of the street"Or this one: "the tongue is a muscle just strolling along." Me: nice
“how far we can enter into hell and still sit down for Sunday dinner.”De urgentie druipt van elk woord in deze bundel. Complexiteit trouwens ook, maar dat kenmerkt volgens mij ook haar poging om gevoel in taal om te zetten. In tegenstelling tot de meeste dichters, die volgens mij toch vooral mooie zinnen proberen te vormen die zo dicht mogelijk in de buurt komen van iets dat net raakt aan hun gevoel, weigert Rankine ‘formeel’ of ‘kloppend’ taalgebruik wanneer dat betekent dat ze daar niet haar e...
SO powerful. As someone who has come from another country, the feeling of isolation and alienation really hit me. What a brilliant poet."In memory, remorse wraps the self" - this is perfect
I am not going to rate this in stars because I did not understand it (I have vaccine brain fog/headaches so I will blame myself for that one). Overall, the only things I can really share is that these poems were long and dense, intellectually difficult, and did not really feel any emotions come out of the writing.
Abject and hauntingly beautiful.
I had a lump in my throat the whole time. Expansive yet intimate. Body, miscarriage, possession. Rankine's poetry is, as ever, powerfully affecting.(Unsure if I noticed/was drawn to this especially because I'm also reading Barthes, but the proliferation of parentheses here, asides spilling into asides, was fascinating.)
A brilliant piece of writing in the school of difficult poetry. This is poetry about the dissolution of a love affair. Though it spans a range of emotions what is most startling and original about this writing is Rankine's language and use of metaphor.
Rankine never ceases to impress me. THE END OF THE ALPHABET is a complex, difficult read that requires more than one pass. The poetry is haunting, sensual, tragic and beautiful in its description of alienation and what it means to be alive--or rather dead while alive. I will continue to reread these poems in hopes of better understanding her words. Rankine belongs in the ranks of poets such as Lowell and Plath. The title perfectly represents the decay of body, life, and words that is present in
It's not easy reading but this woman packs a punch. Wow.
