thru the magic that was my 6 month enrollment at Bent Arts writing institute, I was exposed to many an unfamiliar author. one poet in particular who generally left me slightly slack jawed, the words 'what the f***' falling from my mouth like ripe fruit off a tree was Saphirre, of PUSH the book/Precious the movie fame.
I saw the ads for Precious in the paper when it came out but never heard anything about it. nor did I know anyone who had seen it. the book, I just got a 'yeah it's really intense' heads up. if it was anything like her poems, I was in for it. but not purely satisfied with knowing of its very existence, curiosity and the library colluded together and I found myself with a bright shiny paperback copy of it.
and it's been a while since a BOOK REPORT so here we go:
AHHHHHGGGGG DON'T READ THIS BOOK!!!!!!!!!!! and I'm not trying to reverse psychology you. ok, actually, do what you want, fellow americans. read it, dont read it. you want my opinion, keep reading: holy moses that book is, well, just as I was warned, so very much intense! yeah and I guess the back cover does a little heads up, but a banal promotional paragraph breezing over a plot about incest, abuse, poorest of poor education and some kind of unforgettable journey doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of the emotional raking over hot coals that is reading an entire book dedicated to the topic, the set up, the play by play, the consequences of it all. jesus. h. christ. granted/thank you universe, it is FICTION. but non writers, here's a little secret: all fiction is based on, ahem, TRUTH. uh, yikes.
brings up the little issue of what is the value of bringing into this already difficult at many times such an intense wrecking ball of a book. why bring the people down? what is the point? how does this further the people/world towards a better future?
answers I do not know. or rather, I have not the time left at work where I am writing this (dance belt teaches 20 people of the world to dance thriller) to delve into so deep a philosophical convo.
but I do know/have time to say that it did serve as a sort of existential point of reference. it had kinda a HOTZONE effect. in that, no matter how bad things are for me right now (I was feeling a little emotionally wrecked before i started it. maybs not the best time to read it. (kinda like the time I watched DANCER IN THE DARK whilst deep in the throws of depression. file under I've had better ideas.) I forced it finish in two days while at work. lucky for me, it was folk life and I had the healing powers of several hundred hurdy gurdies (sp?), fiddlers, scottish dancers, balkan singers and crusty jug bands at my disposal.), it's really not all THAT bad. in fact, in comparison, my life is a walk on a flat trail in a beautiful nature preserve. my feet are dry and cozy, my lighter than air backpack is full of nourishing snacks. i am a lucky son of a gun.
thanks saphirre, for the friendly, albeit slightly traumatic reminder.