Post by alkapad38 on May 21, 2012 22:58:05 GMT -5
Traci Brimhall is the not the new kid on the block anymore. At only 30 years old, she has already published two complete collections of poetry, Rookery (2010) and Our Lady of the Ruins (2012); the first of which received the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry First Book Award, and the second of which was selected by Carolyn Forché for the 2011 Barnard Women Poets Prize. Born in Little Falls, Minnesota and now a creative writing professor and doctoral associate at Western Michigan University, we are so lucky to have her here with us tonight.
Traci’s poetry is characterized by a sense of foreboding and uneasiness. She is not afraid to write about frightening truths, that is, concepts that the reader is afraid to find out. Forché described her language as “an unsettling recognition…almost recognizable to us…of a world our own,” a place where we are “unharmed/but not safe.” Traci acknowledges that for this style of writing, she tries “to figure out what makes [her] vulnerable…what threatens to defeat [her].” The product of this anxiety is palpable in the lines of her poetry. I wonder if Traci herself is plagued with these fears - the fear of falling asleep “because the monsters you find/are the ones you bring with you” and the reality that “suffering will outlive the world.”
Traci’s disturbing disclosures and social commentaries are often veiled in beautiful language that lulls us into the musicality of the lines.
“It’s so loud here, /this country where a flower dreams of its color/before it opens.”
It is important to stay alert in order to catch the true meaning of her unnerving aubades. As some of her titles suggest, the reader experiences the feelings of falling, praying, and dueling their way through Traci’s poems.
Another technique that she uses is the connection between nature and the human condition. Often, Traci will weave an anecdote about an aspect of nature with human actions and emotions. For example, “You tell me you found/ a coyote’s leg in a spring trap once. / You knew that an animal, in its wilderness, /would chew through its tendons, snap/ its own bones. There are parts of ourselves/ we can learn to live without.” These connections, along with masterful language and line breaks, add imagery which helps sear the lines into the reader’s mind.
Traci’s powerful statements speak for all of us in our times of pain and restlessness. She writes, “This is not the place where your life begins or ends” and “We want to be healed, /relieved of our burden.”
If her writing depicts omnipotent themes and insight, it is because “the messenger of the gods is also a god.”
Traci once told an interviewer that when she writes, she “assumes that no one would read it, or that if someone ever read it, [she] would never meet them.” Her poetry is made more intimate and vulnerable because of this technique, and I am so glad that we do have the chance to read Traci’s poetry and meet her as well.
Please join me in welcoming Traci Brimhall as she shares her poetry and writing process with us tonight.
Words: 524
Traci’s poetry is characterized by a sense of foreboding and uneasiness. She is not afraid to write about frightening truths, that is, concepts that the reader is afraid to find out. Forché described her language as “an unsettling recognition…almost recognizable to us…of a world our own,” a place where we are “unharmed/but not safe.” Traci acknowledges that for this style of writing, she tries “to figure out what makes [her] vulnerable…what threatens to defeat [her].” The product of this anxiety is palpable in the lines of her poetry. I wonder if Traci herself is plagued with these fears - the fear of falling asleep “because the monsters you find/are the ones you bring with you” and the reality that “suffering will outlive the world.”
Traci’s disturbing disclosures and social commentaries are often veiled in beautiful language that lulls us into the musicality of the lines.
“It’s so loud here, /this country where a flower dreams of its color/before it opens.”
It is important to stay alert in order to catch the true meaning of her unnerving aubades. As some of her titles suggest, the reader experiences the feelings of falling, praying, and dueling their way through Traci’s poems.
Another technique that she uses is the connection between nature and the human condition. Often, Traci will weave an anecdote about an aspect of nature with human actions and emotions. For example, “You tell me you found/ a coyote’s leg in a spring trap once. / You knew that an animal, in its wilderness, /would chew through its tendons, snap/ its own bones. There are parts of ourselves/ we can learn to live without.” These connections, along with masterful language and line breaks, add imagery which helps sear the lines into the reader’s mind.
Traci’s powerful statements speak for all of us in our times of pain and restlessness. She writes, “This is not the place where your life begins or ends” and “We want to be healed, /relieved of our burden.”
If her writing depicts omnipotent themes and insight, it is because “the messenger of the gods is also a god.”
Traci once told an interviewer that when she writes, she “assumes that no one would read it, or that if someone ever read it, [she] would never meet them.” Her poetry is made more intimate and vulnerable because of this technique, and I am so glad that we do have the chance to read Traci’s poetry and meet her as well.
Please join me in welcoming Traci Brimhall as she shares her poetry and writing process with us tonight.
Words: 524