"Julie Anderson's collection of poetry and essays took me on a personal journey very different from my own, but I still felt every moment of heartache and triumph. Her words demand attention in the courageous way that many writers hope to emulate. There will be no reader's reverie and no skimming of this work. You will feel everything, from the desperation of "Blow (A Love Story)" to the haunting words of "Gold." Even short poems like "Is It?" have an irresistible bite.
Anderson wrestles with the unseen in her work--pain, regret, ownership, rage. "Blow (A Love Story)" is one piece that sticks out in my memory. Even if you haven't experienced a single thing she speaks about in that poem, you feel every moment in the pit of your gut; the lust, anguish and desperation meld together as she works those emotions through you.
When she calls out a "you" in her work, it's not clear if she's speaking to a past partner, a friend, family member or herself. Could it even be us, the reader? The judging eyes hidden safely behind the other side of the page; a simulacrum of society? In "Departure" who is the 'Wayfarer'? It is not for us to know. Her words sink in and take the shape of who we need them to be. There is an enchantment in this disorientation; the kind that only a poet can conjure.
"My eyes can see / the magic as it's becoming."
Yes, I certainly think they can."
Reading Julie Anderson's memoir-in-poems, Secrets and Lies, this Faulkner quote kept running through my mind: "The past is never dead. It's not even past." Anderson's stunning collection isn't always in chronological order. As memories tend to do, hers keep surfacing.
And when they do?
She faces them with a verbal bravado that's a joy to read and a true study of courage. Her words have a sense of urgency to them that kept me turning the pages, because each poem feels as if it’s happening right now.
Her choice to allow her childhood memories to mingle with her adult experiences, also makes this collection incredibly poignant. In "Mama" Anderson asserts:
"I watched as you acquiesced,
saw you kiss the hand (the one that struck);
I listened as you placated the sharpest of tongues.
I waited for you to defend your life
as it was flitted away
Mama--
I know you gave it up,
just as you were taught to do.
I watched it all, Mama--
and now I'm just like you."
As Anderson shares her past heartbreaks and traumas, the reader sees that she is a survivor. As she states in her gorgeous poem, "Speedball," "Salvation comes / in secret slices. In her poem, "Worthy" Anderson tells us that "being exposed proved to be empowering."
Her writer's voice is raw and powerful, yet artfully controlled. In revealing her secrets and exposing the damaging lies others once told about her that she’s fought hard to no longer believe, Anderson urges us to be brave--to claim and to share our own heartbreaks and triumphs as well.
A must-read.
