Williams-Noren’s poetry collection presents a climate-conscious lyrical narrative that blends interpersonal relationships with humanity’s collective tragedy.
In every elegy, there’s an aspect of insufficiency—an inability of the words to capture the essence of the grief they’re attempting to process. Every contemporary instance of climate poetry may well be an elegy for humankind’s relationship to the Earth, and this collection takes insufficiency of language, of art, and of learning to express that idea as one of its major themes. Williams-Noren writes these poems from the perspective of a speaker who reminisces about life with a father who worked in the oil industry; as such, the speaker grieves for the innocence of childhood and for the industry’s toll on the environment. Williams-Noren’s elegiac approach is mirrored in the poems’ insights into humans’ relationship to the natural world, and the speaker’s familial ties to fossil fuel only heightens the tension. For instance, in “Theory [Now],” the speaker says, “When I was very small I asked my dad whether he / knew everything, and when he said he didn’t, / I didn’t believe him.” Later, the speaker complicates this common sentiment when discussing an article about a common chemical that’s been discovered to be hazardous—one that triggers memories of “gallons of solvents stocked in the warehouse— / sandy orange, luminous green, clear and thin as water.” This poem is a clear example that effectively demonstrates the strength of the collection as a whole, as the works all contribute to a compelling narrative—one in which the final images portray each piece’s central concern with tactful subtlety. Storytelling seems to be the dominant force in these poems, which may deter readers who prefer poetry that focuses more on the art form’s sonic elements, but the poem’s images and line breaks ably demonstrate the poet’s deliberate care and attention.
Vulnerable, empathetic, and imagistic poems that make for a compelling read.