Second Childhood

Recipient of the 2009 Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize for lifetime achievement, Howe (Come and See) is masterfully lyrical in her newest collection, one marbled throughout with musings over identity. Howe navigates between indeterminate and shifting speakers and addressees with a wide array of tools, like obfuscating shadows, contradictions, and a precious, serene delicacy that channels a childlike marvel, contenting the speaker to present images without interrogation: “A pebbled island/ is a kind of barge:/ seaweed blackened/ another glacial strand.// White quartz.// Some green mermaid’s tears.” References to childhood, along with religion, are prevalent, such as in the title poem: “I have a fairy rosary called Silver who answers/ questions when I dangle her in the sun at the window./ So I’ve asked her if I have a big ego and she swings/ from side to side to say no.” Moreover, Howe complicates this type of pristine grace with rejection that perpetuates the speaker’s curiosity in the lines that follow: “We don’t understand why we are here in the world/ with horrible grown-ups or what the lessons are that/ we’re supposed to learn./ It’s not helpful for us to hear ourselves described in/ religious, geriatric or psychological terms.” Howe may occupy some familiar and traditional poetic spaces, but she populates them beautifully. [em](July) [/em]