Sarah Blake follows up her previous book of poetry, Mr. West, with a stunning second collection about anxieties and injury. Blake uses self-consciousness as a tool for transformation, looking so closely at herself that she moves right through the looking glass and into the larger world. Fear becomes palpable through the classification of monsters and through violences madeSarah Blake follows up her previous book of poetry, Mr. West, with a stunning second collection about anxieties and injury. Blake uses self-consciousness as a tool for transformation, looking so closely at herself that she moves right through the looking glass and into the larger world. Fear becomes palpable through the classification of monsters and through violences made real. When the poems find themselves in the domestic realm, something is always under threat. The body is never safe, nor are the ghosts of the dead. But these poems are not about cowering. By detailing the dangers we face as humans, as Americans, and especially as women, these poems suggest we might find a way through them. The final section of the book is a feminist, science fiction epic poem, "The Starship," which explores the interplay of perception and experience as it follows the story of a woman who must constantly ask herself what she wants as her world shifts around her.Hardcover is un-jacketed....
|Title||:||Let's Not Live on Earth|
|Number of Pages||:||128 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
Let's Not Live on Earth Reviews
“Let’s Not Live On Earth”Written by Sarah Blake Sarah Blake’s poetry is intriguing. I was particularly intrigued by the cover of her book. Sarah’s poetry is very feministic, full of women empowering poetry and positivity. This is not usually the poetry that I pick up, but I was curious to see what this would be like. I like it. I do, but because liking a book on Goodreads equals to 3 stars, I feel strange giving these poems 3 stars out of five. I hope you read my review and consider a 3.5 review, because I’m definitely somewhere in the middle. Sarah’s poetry is in no way my style, but I definitely find it interesting. It can be sad, but it’s very serious poetry, with about half of it being in prose. She mentions important topics like gun violence, domestic abuse, anxiety, and early motherhood. There’s a poem about a gynecological check up that made me lose my appetite, but it’s important because she spoke about sexual health and awareness, which is a really interesting topic to me. Her poetry’s style is a little distracting, but I think it adds to the vibe of the poetry. It reminds me of spoken word, a beatnik poetry night, but this isn’t a bad thing. Romantic poetry is meant to be melodic. This kind of poetry is supposed to make you feel a little on edge and uncomfortable. I think a few of the poems are a little too full of shock factor, but I admire her willingness to write about what feels honest to her. I also really enjoyed her novella, "Star Ship".*I thank Sarah Blake and her publisher for sending a complementary copy of the book to me for reviewing purposes”.
One of my wishes for 2018 is to read more poetry, and to help with that, I asked for (and received) as a holiday present a year-long subscription to the Rumpus Poetry Book Club, which sends me a new poetry book once a month. Let’s Not Live on Earth was the first selection I received, and I really enjoyed it. There’s a lot in this collection about the conflicting emotions of motherhood as well as about loss and death. The last 1/3 to ½ of the book is a longer poem about escaping (literally) to another world as Earth dies, and I loved this poem’s examination of how and why we form relationships (hint: sometimes it’s as random as the other person just happens to be your neighbor living through the same hell as you). I put stars next to 3-4 poems in this collection, and that’s a pretty good sign for me that I’ll open this collection again in the future to reread my particular favorites.
An otherwordly out-of-body experience. Seeking liberty from presumption.