“Begin with the fuchsia dress
I wore the night the scent
of storm threaded the brief
wind gusting away its hem
from my thighs”
After I read this, I looked up Faizullah and learned that her work is influenced by Bangladeshi women raped by Pakistani soldiers during the Liberation War of 1971. This made me look at her work, violence and protest in a new light. Previously I was anticipating “down with the system” poetry but what Faizullah has done is preserved the humanness of those that experience violence. I read the poem I quoted waiting for the violence to happen, but all I got was a mention that someone wearing a green sweater meant a lot and wasn’t alive anymore. The focus was not on any violent act itself but instead focused on how violent things interacts and disrupts our everyday moments.
I picked up that same sentiment in Smith’s work, some of my favorite lines are “or maybe i’m just tipsy & free for the first time, willing to worship anything i can taste,” as well as “guilty until proven dead.” and “ no bullets in the heroes. & no one kills the black boy. & no one kills
the black boy. & no one kills the black boy. Besides, the only reason
I want to make this is for that first scene anyway: the little black boy
on the bus with a toy dinosaur, his eyes wide & endless his dreams possible, pulsing, & right there.”
For me, while Smith does explicitly talk about violence, he writes about it in contrast to every-day life and showcases how violence is woven into our daily existence. In the dinosaur poem he wants the black boy to live a life filled with joy, but life for black boys rarely exists without interaction with death and violence whether it's done to his body or bodies that look like his.
Which brings me to America’s Pastime - Carney talks about that violence I was anticipating, there is nothing pretty about pregnant Mary Turner being lynched and he doesn't try to make it so. This approach to violence isn't to write around it, but to be specific about what has/is actually taking place. Carney puts the reader into time and draws them in vivid desictipions that allow for the reader to understand just how evil and violent these crimes against peoeple were. This work reminds me of the opening from Amiri Baraka in poetry and protest when he talks about how poetry from Blacks/minorities is labeled as protest when it's just people writing about what they know. The fact that Carney and other writers may only know death and despair points to a larger problem in society, not just issues with the writer. To protest is to stand up against the. One, if that's the truth then writing by anyone that's not white will always be protest, and you'll be seen as violent even when you're peaceful.
I really appreciated your insights on this week's topic, Brea. I also did not expect to find so much tenderness in these poems, and I had a hard time pulling out explicit "violence" from some of them. I appreciate what you said about how Faizullah "preserved the humanness of those that experience violence." Violence is physical, but it is also emotional and systemic, and part of the "protest" seems to be asserting the complex humanity of folks whose lives intersect with violence.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great blog post Brea. Thank you for bringing in Faizullah and the corresponding fact that these readings weren't all about the acts (though some had to be and were). Faizullah does leave through erasure a sense of what may have happened without naming it. It's almost like the ghost of the acts perpetrated on her are as intrusive as they are absent. I'm glad you brought her into this week's responses. It serves to note what quiet protest her work makes because it too protests against what she's endured. So Baraka is right. When people of color write their/our experience, it's always protest against everything we've had to fight through and for.
ReplyDeleteThank you for making these connections, Brea! Bringing in the Baraka quote at the end of this really brings home the fact that the personal for marginalized people is political. And, through these moments of tenderness that you point out, we are able to see other methods of protest. Sometimes living and remembering are moments of (I like what Mimi said above) "quiet protest."
ReplyDeleteViolence against women is a special class of violence because of what it strips from a woman. I do appreciate retaining the humanness of the experience women go through, and her poetry does that so well. I think that at the core of her poetry is a sense of strength despite being constrained or abused. I really do love the 'quite protests' (that Avren points out), sometimes they are more powerful.
ReplyDeleteYour ideas are very strong and connect the sensibilities of the poems quite well. It's also interesting to note that the most explicit reportage of violence is Carney's who is white. (no one talked about this!!) and he leaves his most graphic lines hanging off the right ends of the poems. So you can see that while I admire the way you understood the subtle intentionality and sideways perspective of the writers, there's more to see in the technique.
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