缅北强奸

Carrying the Charms: Review of Ada Lim贸n鈥檚聽The Carrying聽and Keetje Kuipers鈥檚聽All Its Charms

Amie Whittemore

Reviewed:聽Ada Lim贸n鈥檚聽The Carrying聽(Milkweed Editions, 2018) and Keetje Kuipers鈥檚聽All Its Charms聽(BOA Editions, Ltd., 2019)

I have never wanted to be a mother and find little solace in the idea of setting up house with a domestic partner; yet, despite my psychic distance from the experiences of parenthood and partnership that ground Ada Lim贸n鈥檚聽The Carrying聽and Keetje Kuipers鈥檚聽All Its Charms,听I found both collections radically comforting as they situated domesticity, its pleasures and challenges, as feminist responses to the environmental and social threats that abound: caring for each other, for ourselves, for our families and home-scapes are forms of resistance in both collections. 聽

Both poets deal with parenthood and pregnancy, and the speakers in both books are cognizant of their role as daughters as well as (would-be) parents/caretakers and how these roles inform each other. In 鈥淭he Raincoat,鈥� Lim贸n鈥檚 speaker recounts a childhood of back problems, and how 鈥淢y mom would tell me to sing /songs to her the whole forty-five-minute / drive to Middle Two Rock Road鈥� and back.聽 Later, the speaker finds herself on her way to 鈥渁nother spine appointment, singing along / to some maudlin but solid song on the radio鈥� realizing this is the marvelous gift of mother-love鈥攖he ability to care for herself. This inner strength fortifies other relationships that infuse the collection, particularly that with the speaker鈥檚 husband, but also with in-laws and step-parents, with neighbors and animals. 聽

In the epistolary poem 鈥淪pring Letter from the South,鈥� Kuipers鈥檚 speaker writes to her mother of a visit to the southern United States where

聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 鈥�magnolias
collapse their heavy bosoms against

聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 each roof鈥檚 pitched elbows. Everything
the baby does鈥攑roclaiming song-words
聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽to the birds, commanding trees

聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 to hold still or spill their guts鈥�
is magic I haven鈥檛 given up on yet.

The speaker in this poem highlights one of the central anxieties in聽All Its Charms: how do we, as a species, embrace the uncertain and difficult future, while harboring within us multiple pasts鈥攑rismatic and tender as they are painful? For her and Lim贸n, the love of family, particularly of mothers, provides a sustaining balm.

However, these speakers鈥� relationships to their mothers are complicated by their own desires to become mothers themselves: in Lim贸n鈥檚 collection, her speaker comes to grip with multiple failed attempts at becoming pregnant. Kuipers鈥檚 book also spends some time with the pursuit of pregnancy, particularly as a nontraditional mother (as part of a lesbian partnership) though, for her, this process results in the birth of a daughter. In 鈥淲ould You Rather,鈥� Lim贸n鈥檚 speaker reflects on her and her husband鈥檚 reaction to their childlessness, after a game of 鈥渨ould you rather鈥� with her nieces and nephews:

You said our Plan B was just to live our lives:
more time, more sleep, travel鈥�

聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 and still I鈥檓 making a list of all the places
I found out I wasn鈥檛 carrying a child.

In this poem, as in others, 鈥渃arrying鈥� carries with it a double meaning; the speaker is carrying an absence as much as a presence: the weight of grief counterpoint to the absent weight of a child. How do we carry both? Lim贸n鈥檚 speaker is tentative in offering solutions, the poem swirling into questions as it reaches its end, where the speaker remembers seeing a seal below the Golden Gate Bridge, 鈥渢he last time鈥� she learned she wasn鈥檛 pregnant. She asks her husband if he remembers the seal 鈥渁lone in the churning waves between rock and shores? Didn鈥檛 she seem happy?鈥� Is seeming happy the same as聽being? Does the speaker聽蝉别别尘听happy, alone as the seal is alone, with all she carries? In this poem, and in both these collections, happiness is rejected鈥攐r if not quite rejected, set aside鈥攁s an end-goal. Happiness is insignificant in the face of tragedies, near (as in 鈥淎 New National Anthem鈥� in Lim贸n鈥檚 work) and far (as in 鈥淒onetsk鈥� in Kuipers鈥檚). Passion, devotion, anger, growing things, being present鈥攁ll these seem more urgent and sustaining than happiness in these women鈥檚 poems.

Lim贸n鈥檚 poem 鈥淢aybe I鈥檒l Be Another Kind of Mother鈥� elaborates on the question of motherhood as the speaker, reflecting on a group of mothers 鈥渢alking about their kids, their little time-suckers,鈥� notes that she鈥檒l 鈥渂e elsewhere, having spent all day writing words / and then at the movies, where my man bought me a drink.鈥� Here, the speaker settles into her life, even if it鈥檚 not the one she envisioned, and this comfort is reflected in the formal shift between 鈥淲ould You Rather鈥� and 鈥淢aybe I鈥檒l Be Another Kind of Mother.鈥� The former is a series of often-indented couplets, which are often interrupted by other stanzaic lengths/structures, indicative of the turmoil at the center of the poem; the speaker is not at ease here. 鈥淢aybe I鈥檒l Be Another Kind of Mother,鈥� with its taut couplets, speaks to the solace of the union the speaker has with her husband, with this life where branches give way 鈥渢o other green branches, everything coming back to life.鈥� Still, it ends in a single line, a paean to grief鈥檚 persistence.

As the seal and tree in these two poems suggest, Lim贸n is in close conversation with the nonhuman world; Kuipers similarly engages closely with landscape (a theme worthy of further investigation in both collections, for those of you with time and inclination). In 鈥淟andscape with Child,鈥� the speaker admires evening鈥檚 approach with her daughter: 鈥淭he bats come on at dusk, playing between / the pine trunks, shadow puppets cast against / the lake鈥檚 silvering surface. I hold you: harp / and harpist...鈥� Through the metaphor of 鈥渉arp and harpist,鈥� Kuipers limns the complex relationship of parent to child: while a harpist doesn鈥檛 birth a harp, it figuratively comes to life in the harpist鈥檚 hands, trembling into song; furthermore, without a harp, what is a harpist? This examination of identity and purpose is the poem鈥檚 central conflict. Later in the poem, Kuipers writes 鈥淵our absence / is impossible, unimaginable. // You can鈥檛 ever be gone from me.鈥� In this moment, these two collections arrive at the same locus of loss: the longing to be a parent merging with the longing to聽always聽be one, the child never born converging with the child who will someday die.

Both poets鈥� speakers confront the loss of a child at an angle as well, in poems that memorialize the death of young people tangential to their lives.聽 Lim贸n does so in 鈥淭he Dead Boy,鈥� where the speaker and a friend discover a young man dead of an overdose in his dorm room: 鈥淟ater I found out his name was Griffin, / part lion, part eagle, named for the king / of the creatures, named the guardian / of riches.鈥� And though he carried such a symbol-rich name, Lim贸n鈥檚 speaker continues, 鈥淚 did not / feel like I was laying down a lion, or a king, / or an eagle, but a poor suffering son...鈥� Similarly, Kuipers鈥檚 speaker mourns the death, by suicide, of a young woman in her community in 鈥淥n the Haunted Hayride with Audrey:鈥� 鈥淎udrey, I don鈥檛 have to be your mother / to be furious with you,鈥� she tells the dead girl. In these twinned moments, we see these women commune with other mothers, see them offer other sorrows as counterpoint to their own: whatever they have lost, neither of them has had to bury a child, and for both, that type of loss is nearly unspeakable, edged with anger: Lim贸n 鈥渉ate[s] these words and the drug that dragged鈥� Griffin to his death; Kuipers wants to yell at Audrey鈥檚 ghost: 鈥�get down from there / this minute!聽Stop scaring me half to death.鈥� These deaths then serve as reminders of the randomness of life, in both its bounties and its burdens, these deaths as inexplicable as the riches Lim贸n and Kuipers explore in other poems.

While these poets acknowledge loss as woven into life, they also suggest that continuing to live remains our only solace. In 鈥淧icking Huckleberries as the World Ends,鈥� Kuipers writes,

聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽 聽...It鈥檚 not the end,

love, though when it comes, I hope we鈥檒l shelter in
the consolation of touch, that human habit you and I

have fallen out of. If there鈥檚 another way to live
on this earth, let us be brave and find it together.

Here, and throughout the collection, like Lim贸n, Kuipers finds comfort and security in domestic partnership; indeed, both their collections feature a poem titled 鈥淲ife.鈥� However, these comforts are not without their complexities. Lim贸n鈥檚 speaker in 鈥淲ife鈥� examines the patriarchal history the word ferries with it and thus her discomfort with it: 鈥淲ife, why does it / sound like a job?鈥� or wife, 鈥淎 word that could be made / easily into maid.鈥� Kuipers鈥檚 poem is also a feminist examination of wife-hood, as her speaker meditates simultaneously on being a wife and addressing聽her听飞颈蹿别,

my body over the stones making a robe
of seamless understanding: a comfort not 聽

unlike forgiveness. Tell me if this is the promise

you鈥檝e been waiting to untie like a knot.

In both these poems there is a slipperiness of being identified with a role and the failures that come with trying to fulfill those roles. In dealing with these intricacies, both poets shift from self-examination toward addressing the beloved: Lim贸n鈥檚 speaker 鈥渃ries / in the mornings,鈥� and

聽 聽 聽 聽 聽...wants to love you, but often
isn鈥檛 good at even that, the one who
doesn鈥檛 want to be diminished
by how much she wants to be yours.

Here, the speaker fears being subsumed/consumed by the role and by her failures within it (which is reflected, formally, by the choice to contain these anxieties in a single stanza, the division between spouses physically obscured on the page), as well as by her own need to belong with the husband, despite the fraught associations she has with wife-hood. Kuipers鈥檚 speaker experiences a similar, though more lyrically imagined, conflict, opening the poem: 鈥淏utterfly wing, shark鈥檚 tooth, quill. // What if I don鈥檛 want to be human anymore鈥�?鈥� In this poem, Kuipers鈥檚 speaker seeks seamlessness, with the world as well as with her wife, while acknowledging that such communion doesn鈥檛 come easily or without tension, which is also evoked formally: the poem oscillates between couplets and single lines, reinforcing the poem鈥檚 central tensions between connection and distance.

In reading these collections in close proximity, I found myself charmed and carried. Charmed by these poets鈥� wit, their deft handling of both personal and political material, and carried by what are, despite the sorrows embedded in both texts, are joy-rich, nurturing books. Both are dedicated to life鈥檚聽ongoingness, as indicated by the many poems in both collections that are titled with present participles: four poems in Lim贸n鈥檚 collection feature a single present participle (i.e. 鈥淭rying鈥� and 鈥淢astering鈥�) as a title and five poems in Kuipers鈥檚 collection begin with a present participle (i.e., 鈥淒igging Out the Splinter鈥�). These are books written from the juicy, terrible, wonderful thicket at the center of life. If, as W.H. Auden suggests in 鈥�,鈥� 鈥渨e must love each other or die,鈥� Lim贸n and Kuipers are on board for the task, feisty and bold, ready to employ their muscular love鈥攆or self, family, others, and world鈥攚ith honesty about its limitations and the verve to overcome them.