WW Norton

Names: Poems

admin — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 01:00:00 +0000

Marilyn Hacker is a poet after the heart of not just poetry readers but poetry writers. I was immediately enthralled by the rich language of this National Book Award winner—for Presentation Piece in 1974—a language pulsating with raw indignation at injustice and celebration of what are life’s quotidian and banal joys: the small pleasures of winter light, sips of Sunday coffee, and the company of friends. Her virtuoso use of wordplay strums the memories of one’s mind as only a writer of her caliber can, and I found myself by frenetic turns maddened and boisterous with the giggles started by the internal dialogue that she shares. Racy descriptions of five minutes after “she came” give way to descriptions of tanks, uniforms, guys, and testosterone.

Hacker is well known as one of the “New Formalism” poets shunning the free form poetic license that is currently en vogue. In particular, she is considered an expert of French poetic forms such as the villanelle. An example would be her 1986 sonnet verse novel Love, Death and the Changing of Seasons, and Names is now her most recent example. It includes poetic forms of ancient Islamic origin (ghazals), gloses that not only note but also illuminate the works of fellow poets such as Anna Akhmatova and Emmanuel Moses and letters in sonnet form to contemporaries.

A favorite is one of the ghazals entitled “dar al-harb,” or “house of war,” and it includes this critique of American power:

I might wish, like any citizen to celebrate my country but millions have reason to fear and hate my country… As English is my only mother tongue it’s in English I must excoriate my country. _ _The good ideas of Marx or Benjamin Franklin don’t excuse the gulags, or vindicate my country. _ _Who trained the interrogators, brought the bulldozers? _the paper trails indicate my country. _

Hacker’s vivisection of American foreign policy is truly something to behold and questions the continuing presence in the national political landscape of the U.S. of exceptionalism. Americans cannot continue to proclaim a special destiny so long as we are nation that many fear as such a dichotomy of perspectives is corrosive.

The plain, clear sight of this author’s poetry was refreshing and removed some of that intellectual ennui which can sometimes preclude one from appreciate the daily wonders that allow each of us to experience the joie de vie.

Written by: Brandon Copeland, February 13th 2010

Old World Daughter, New World Mother

admin — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 09:28:00 +0000

By Maria Laurino

WW Norton

Taking us from her childhood to the present, Maria Laurino explores what it’s like to be an Italian American woman through the lens of identity, feminism, ethnicity, motherhood, pregnancy, and economics in Old World Daughter, New World Mother_. Laurino unveils the restrictions she faced as a feminist daughter, as well as all that a traditionally Italian upbringing entails. We learn of her severely over-protective mother who gets up at dawn to make the day’s meals, how this mamma’s_ actions and attitudes have rippled across the pond of Laurino’s life, and why this mamma did not serve as a role model for her daughter because she remained stuck within an ever “motherly” and self-effacingly sacrificial role.

This theme of sacrificial motherhood is ubiquitous in the book, and Laurino later ties it in to her deep analysis of feminism and motherhood in America today. In a way, Laurino’s story is epic because it is both personal and boundless. At least part of her story—her thoughts and feelings about life lived through the stark lens of feminism—will resonate with most readers. While Laurino is fond of details her humanity broadens their reach, which is precisely what makes this book so touching, graceful, and important.

Laurino shares the connections that she forms with herself and everyone around her, even when they’re not reciprocated. There is enough intimate divulgence to let us perceive our narrator’s sensitivity in the face of a callous world, and we see strength inhabit Laurino as she surpasses obstacles to evolve into the writer who lived to tell the tale. As I read, I truly marveled at the uninhibited candor and courage stemming from this person who is, in the end, so much like each of us.

This book deals largely with “reconstructive feminism” or “family humanism.” Laurino explores ways in which feminism can approach class and economic equality, mitigate the difficulties of working-class parents (women in particular), and deconstruct the myth of independence anchored in American culture that leads mothers to make false choices about their careers. When she interviews Nidia, a working-class mother who lacked the opportunity to get to know her children because she had to work (with no benefits, minimal vacation time, and no flexibility to even use an office phone to call home and check that her children had gotten home safely from school) an embarrassed Laurino if Nidia is a feminist or supports the movement: “’Let me see,’ [Nidia] replied with a sly smile, ‘is that when women fought for the right to employment?’”

Essentially, Laurino believes it imperative that the “two strands of the women’s movement—one that sought to protect women’s interests as wives and mothers, the other that fought for universal human rights—converge once again.” She affirms there need not be contradiction in a “feminist motherhood agenda,” which would serve us all—mothers and otherwise—supremely well. Laurino introduces ideas for legislation to guide us in moving forward that utilizes cultural perspectives inspired by her Italian upbringing. She also suggests actions we can take right now.

Appropriately, this book has reminded me that we are all linked together. We all matter because we are all riding the same wave of life, as Laurino likes to say, and injustice against one will duly impact everyone riding it—and so will compassion. This is a memoir that cruises through politics, ethnicity, motherhood, and identity politics while pulling the reader back into the palpability of these encompassing themes.

Old World Daughter, New World Mother is an important and potentially paradigm-shattering book with a lot to offer feminists, especially to those privileged enough to get their hands on it. As Laurino walks us through her deconstruction of myths, prejudices, and familial ingrained ideas, her concepts breathe a tender and brave vitality onto us, and stretches our minds to blur misconceptions about motherhood, ethnicity, class, the economy, and feminism itself.

This book is nourishment. Don’t miss it.

Written by: Natalia Real, July 18th 2009

The Return of Depression Economics

admin — Wed, 15 Jul 2009 23:16:00 +0000

By Paul Krugman

WW Norton

Paul Krugman's The Return of Depression Economics is one of the most accessible reads on the current financial crisis. The 2008 winner of the Nobel Prize in Economics successfully avoids jargon in presenting a smart, interesting take on global financial crises in the 1990s. Originally published ten years ago, Krugman updated it to reflect current events.

In The Return of Depression Economics, Krugman mainly places blame on leveraged credit, which substantially increased risks associated with investment. He chronicles the creation of “shadow banks,” secondary institutions that provide unregulated monetary advances, and intelligently refutes those polemics who would state the financial crisis has no immediate precedent. Krugman plainly examines smaller yet similar meltdowns in Latin America and Asia.

Those without a background in economics or international studies can understand the scale of the crisis encountered in 2008. Krugman states a number of recommendations for policy makers. He says, “What the world needs right now is a rescue operation. The global credit system is in a state of paralysis, and a global slump is building momentum. Reform of the weaknesses that made this crisis possible is essential, but it can wait a little while.” For the immediate future, he advocates increasing spending, reviving credit, and essentially introducing legislation for a “new regulatory regime.”

Consistently, Krugman manages to engage the reader. In describing the vicious cycle of the economic meltdown, he uses a self-described “whimsical” example of a baby-sitting cooperative to explain the effects of a recession. Krugman does, however, underscore the gravity of the subjects he discusses. He states: “Fifteen years ago hardly anybody thought that modern nations would be forced to endure bone-crushing recessions for fear of currency speculators, and that major advanced nations would find themselves persistently unable to generate enough spending to keep their workers and factories employed. The world economy has turned out to be a much more dangerous place than we imagined.” Krugman clearly defines the importance of learning lessons from the Great Depression. Indeed, now, there is no longer an excuse for blatant ignorance on the subject of recent events in the global economy.

Written by: Anita Sonawane, July 15th 2009

Free From Lies: Discovering Your True Needs

admin — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 09:15:00 +0000

By Alice Miller, Andrew Jenkins

WW Norton

In her latest study, Free From Lies, famed psychologist Alice Miller examines the way child abuse shapes the psyche and the effect it can have on humanity. While the human brain has an incredible ability to normalize traumatic events, Miller argues that abuses suffered in childhood can never truly be repressed. It appears as though humanity is suffering from a collective amnesia regarding the wrongs we suffered in infancy. These wrongs, according to Miller, will manifest themselves later in life. We see evidence of this everywhere—in the form of domestic abuse, war, and genocide—all of which are prominent throughout our history. Those who have been able to break away from the cycle of abuse (a minority of about ten percent) are not without their problems, often suffering from serious health conditions later on in life.

Miller argues that humanity has, for the most part, come to define child abuse as "good parenting." The negative implications of this are two-fold: first, the child develops conflicting views regarding their parents, who act simultaneously as care-giver and as tyrant, and secondly, that the general, worldwide acceptance of child abuse will ensure it is passed down from generation to generation. Miller examines horrific dictators like Adolph Hitler, revered icons like Marilyn Monroe, serial killers, and domestic abusers. While the common denominator among her subjects is, of course, child abuse, Miller looks at the way her subjects have been psychoanalyzed. She argues that history tends to analyze and treat severely traumatized and/or psychotic adults by looking at the symptoms of their pain rather than determining the causes of it. Miller stresses the importance of asking the right questions when dealing with these seemingly traumatized adults. This, according to Miller, is the only way to determine the root cause of abuse and determine the appropriate course of therapy.

Free from Lies is a logical, well-documented study that examines the ideologies that society has been reluctant to confront. Miller challenges others in her field head-on, wondering aloud why some child psychologists continue to deny and document the existence of child abuse. Not only is her fearless study convincing and engaging, the book is also extremely readable. Miller's approach to writing is refreshingly no-nonsense; she refrains from padding her observations with diatribes and academic-speak, ensuring her work can be read and enjoyed by a mainstream audience.

A compelling read, Free from Lies belongs on the bookshelves of everyone from the novice to the well-seasoned psychoanalyst. This important study has all the trimmings of a classic in the making and it is bound to invite and create debate and dissection for many years to come. The study is best appreciated through multiple reading as it will reveal new truths and insights each time. If we want to better our communities, it is imperative we understand our own inner-workings. Free from Lies will serve as an excellent aid by promoting open discussion and release from our own forgotten abuses.

Written by: Cheryl Santa Maria, July 11th 2009

The King: Poems

admin — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 23:37:00 +0000

By Rebecca Wolff

WW Norton

I’m trying not to look at Rebecca Wolff’s new book of poems, The King, as a self-help book, which, of course, it’s not at all. But as a fellow writer and mother whose venture into the latter ’hood punted me way out of my cozy work-life comfort zone, I can’t help but look for clues and compare notes while reading Wolff’s crystallizing poems. After all, she’s got it together enough to write books.

In The King, Wolff begins with poems on the fragmented physical and emotional, or perhaps biological and psychological, experiences of pregnancy. “Creative Visualization” suggests thoughts appearing in a prenatal yoga student’s consciousness, while printed on the facing page is “Poem on Colostrum,” which both explains and wonders at the pre–breast milk excretion. The next group of poems, the first of two sections called “The Baby,” begins so matter-of-factly, so succinctly—“it was inevitable—/I was pregnant”—that a spiral into darker territory seems inevitable. In “The Letdown,” Wolff elicits fury at the twisted powers every mother is granted:

and writhing
I wiped that smile
right off your face
and by withholding
the milk from my breast
make a man out of you
and with my raving
I wouldn’t wish this
on anyone
not even a mother

Today, we’re constantly reminded that motherhood is a choice. One can have a complete existence without it, and thus if it is chosen (of course, there are still lots and lots of women for whom it isn’t), it can feel all the more disruptive. At times, the child and mother-becoming are viewed as biological oddities, and I imagine that maybe Wolff sometimes looks, as I do, across the dining room table at her children and wonders “Who are those beings? What happened to make them come here? Why, oh why, are they under my watch?”

In the section titled “The Man,” the narrator seems to be redefining herself as an adult individual, perhaps having been changed by the child, unmentioned but inextricable: “You must look into his eyes/as though you really knew him.” The final section, “Depth Essay,” is like an apotheosis, the narrator having settled in, somewhat (do we ever really settle in to this?) to life punctuated by therapy, childhood illnesses, the unease of the narrator’s own youth ever-receding in the distance, and homemade cookies.

The middle section, which gives the book its title, seems to explore the key (I’m going to try it, at least) to achieving this appearance of semi-balance. The first and last lines of “Content is King”: “I queen it/over emptiness./...The king is content.”

Written by: Jonelle Seitz, June 18th 2009

Fugitive Denim: A Moving Story of People and Pants in the Borderless World of Global Trade

admin — Sun, 10 Feb 2008 17:41:00 +0000

By Rachel Louise Snyder

WW Norton

Name-dropping Bono in the first chapter of a book about global trade is not a way to win the trust of activists and critical analysts. For me, it can signal anything from blatant ignorance to a writer’s weak attempt at attaining pop culture credibility. I wanted to give Fugitive Denim a chance, despite its hokey name, but when the confusing analogies began immediately, I felt like I was reading a novel penned by a tenth grade English teacher, who was trying way too hard to make me like her. Instead of an inspiring tale detailing the pain, complications, and changes being made to overcome the problems that globalization has brought to developing countries (and subsequently, the developed world), this fluffy book winds around a dozen issues, never focusing or properly addressing the topics at hand. Maybe it should be expected that in tackling such a difficult, wide-ranging subject, a writer would be more familiar with the issues and have a better ability to document them. In this case, while I do respect the author’s attempt at telling a complicated story, the effort falls painfully short.

The problem with Fugitive Denim is that in trying to seem unbiased, writer Rachel Louise Snyder makes it impossible for her audience to determine her stance on issues, and thereby makes her intentions (not to mention her narrative) muddled. While impartial journalism is ideal, we all know it is rarely executed. When it comes to dissecting trade from a bottom-up framework, why bother? In what appears to be an attempt to balance the arguments and show that everyone is hurting under new global trade laws, after hanging out in a few far-flung villages, Snyder interviews designers at Gucci and Prada about their plight as well. Perhaps this is meant to explain that problems with quotas and trade agreements effect everyone on the food chain, but this tactic is instead wildly insulting and naïve. Why do I care if Dolce and Gabbana have problems keeping up their profits? Their concerns about the legitimacy of “Made in Italy” labels? Are you kidding me?

Snyder does provide a lot of interesting footnotes and details much of the inner workings of the textile industry in her travels. One of her most important contributions is shining a light on the rail-thin, stoop-shouldered women who pick the cotton that becomes our jeans. An American based in Cambodia, Snyder seems well aware of gender inequity that surrounds the often-secretive garment industry. Environmental issues are also a key concern in this narrative, and I do applaud these efforts, but all of this great information gets lost in the shuffle of random catchphrases and puns I honestly didn’t understand.

I think for the right person, this might be a great primer on global trade and the textile and apparel industry. I found Snyder’s confused-genre book too murky with scattered details and misplaced metaphors, struggling to find its footing on a rocky path between villages. Maybe I’m a hater, but I just can’t get behind a glossy, MTV version of the hows and whys of globalization.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, February 10th 2008

Cutting: Understanding and Overcoming Self-Mutilation

admin — Wed, 22 Nov 2006 18:43:00 +0000

By Steven Levenkron

WW Norton

Cutting isn’t just about cutting. It’s about burning, fainting, fingernail scratches, hospital visits, and apparent suicide attempts. It’s about what the author calls self-mutilation (though many sufferers prefer the term "self-injury" as "mutilation" implies that the goal is the scar, which isn’t always the case). These girls (and they are mostly girls) act out their anger or sadness on their own skin, inflicting pain but not attempting suicide. The author has worked with girls and boys who hurt themselves for years as a therapist, and he has written this book for both therapists and loved ones. He understands why some people choose to hurt themselves, something that is often a repulsive mystery to others. Self-mutilation, he says, is a "barrier" that keeps us from seeing someone in honest psychological pain. Self-mutilators, who are predominantly, but not exclusively, adolescent girls, have no way to express their anger or pain, whether because of socially imposed norms or because they simple haven’t learned the words. Anger is turned inward and expressed on the self. The girls feel alone, with no one to trust. Often physically or verbally abused, the girls have severe attachment disorders. The book is never too technical for the lay reader, though therapists can learn from it as well. Full of dialogue from his own practice, Levenkron really gets into the minds of these girls and boys. While he discusses treatment, however, he also argues for the recognition of self-mutilation as a psychological disorder in its own right, not merely as a symptom of disorders like borderline personality disorder or depression with anxiety. Though self-mutilation can stem from these, he argues, it can manifest itself without. Just as he argued for anorexia nervosa to be recognized as a disorder, so he argues for self-mutilation. This is an excellent book on a little-understood phenomenon.

Written by: Janine Peterson Wonnacott, November 22nd 2006