I am not a fan of poetry. I think that is mostly because I am not a person who is in touch with my feelings or who wishes to have other people spilling their feelings all over me. I read poetry and if I understand it at all I end up mostly thinking, "Ugh, no one cares about your feelings." I am Scrooge.
So why did I request this book of poetry? It was Women in Translation month. I heard about this collection somewhere on Twitter. I'm always on the lookout for books from or about Poland that aren't mired in World War II. I'm 1/4 Polish and I want to learn more about it but it is hard to find anything that isn't miserable. Granted they've had more than their fair share of trouble but there has to be some literature that isn't just depressing, doesn't there? Also, my library happened to have this book which I thought was a bit odd for some reason.
This collection starts in the 1940s and continues to the 2000s. I'm not going to pretend that I understand every poem but I do get most of them. A lot of them are about things that I haven't seen written about in poetry before. They span a range of emotion from happy to sad.
One of my favorites is about talking to an uppity French woman who is dismissive of Poland as just a place where it is cold. The author spins a crazy fairy tale in her mind about freezing writers struggling against the elements while herding walruses but then realizes that she doesn't have the French vocabulary to be insultingly sarcastic back to this woman so has to just say "Pas de tout (Not at all)."
I'm not usually a poetry fan but I'm loving Wislawa Szymborska's Map. This was me trying to talk en francais. #WITMONTH #THEREADINGQUEST pic.twitter.com/2NfOJzs4N3
— Heather (@Dvmheather) August 17, 2017
This is a huge collection. I've renewed the book once but I'm not getting through it fast enough. To let you know how much I'm enjoying it I'll say, I ordered a copy of myself. Yes, I bought a poetry book. I even thought about buying the hardcover because it seemed like it needed that kind of respect. Then my cheap side of my brain reasserted itself and I got the paperback.
I want the husband to read this too. He likes poetry. He's into feelings. I'll impress him by pretending to be classy and reading poetry. We'll sneak the walrus herders up on him. This review was originally posted on Based On A True Story