“i don’t consider myself
a spidery, spiteful, spitfire woman,
but if i’m never going to be whole again,
then neither are you.”
The Witch Doesn’t Burn in This One. I find that title to be a powerful one – one that makes you stand up, take notice, stop what you’re doing and listen. One that shouts we’re done taking shit lying down. One that announces, we’re women, and we’re tired of being burnt at stake because our only crime is that of being women.
This is the second collection of poetry from the series Women are Some Kind of Magic by Amanda Lovelace. The first was The Princess Saves Herself in This One. The book is divided into sections with poems exploring themes such as abuse, violence, politics, periods, self-acceptance, healing and more. A lot of the poetry was hard-hitting and struck a chord with me. Let’s be honest – it struck several chords! I was highlighting furiously as I read, and one of my favorites in the collection is the poem below:
“it’s just like home,”
This brought a lump to my throat.
However, I do have some mixed feelings about this book, looking at it objectively through the lens of a book reviewer. I’m the last person on earth who would call herself a poetry snob or poetry purist, so let’s get that out of the way. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking that hitting Return after every word doesn’t turn a sentence into a poem. Of course, any and all rules of literature and poetry are meant to be broken, toyed with, played jump-rope with. Creative liberties are fine and a right to be exercised. But…
Maybe that’s just me. Moving on to other things, I found some of the poems to be repetitive, like they were in a similar vein, conveying similar ideas. I also felt I’d read some of it before.
My biggest grouse with the book has to be the misandry though. I know this is being promoted as a feminist book, and yes, for the most part that’s exactly what it is, and I applaud it. I’m a rather loud feminist myself, so every voice added to feminism is something I’m beyond grateful for. But there’s a thin line between feminism and misandry which I’m afraid the poet has not only crossed but justified it. I understand where she is coming from and I share the sentiment, and I also understand this volume would not have been this angry or this relevant had it not been written this way. But the chapter where misandry is justified did not sit well with me, because the answer to misogyny is not misandry. That will just skew the world in the opposite direction, but it will remain skewed. In fighting the villains, we must not become the villains.
For these reasons, while I really liked the collection, I cannot bring myself to bump it up to 4*. I’ll keep the rating at 3.5. That said, I still feel it’s a relevant book and everyone should read it. It will get you riled up enough to not let anyone treat you like a doormat. Even a certain dickhead masquerading as a President somewhere in the world.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book for review from NetGalley/Andrew McMeel Publishing. My review is honest and unbiased.