Showing posts with label Karr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Karr. Show all posts

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Lit: a memoir

Lit : a memoir / Mary Karr.— New York : Harper, 2009.
386 p. ; 24 cm.
Sequel to Cherry
ISBN: 9780060596989

1. Karr, Mary – Biography. 2. Poets, American – 20th century – Biography. 3. Recovering Alcoholics – United States – Biography. 4. Women college teachers – United States – Biography.

811.54

In the prologue to her memoir Cherry, Karr describes herself leaving her childhood home, an oil refinery town on the East Texas Gulf Coast and striking out for the dream of California surf. When it quickly proves to be an impoverished and frightening nightmare, she heads for college and desperately tries to fit in. Unsuccessful at this, she tries drinking and running off. Fortunately she finds poetry and a mentor, and throws herself, reluctantly at first, into the literary life. A decade later however, marriage to another poet from a wealthy family, publication, academic success, and motherhood fail to bring her the escape she’s seeking. So she finds herself living for the anesthetic comfort of the bottle, but the bottle let her down.

“At the end of my drinking, the kingdom I longed for, slaved for, and a the end of each day lunged at was a rickety slab of unreal estate about four foot square—a back stair landing off my colonial outside Cambridge, Mass. I’d sit hunched against the door guzzling whisky and smoking Marlboros while wires from a tinny walkman piped blues into my head. Through hours there were frequently spent howling inwardly about the melting ice floe of my marriage, this spate of hours was the highlight of my day.” (Page 7)

Recovering alcoholics often say that there are only three possible outcomes of their addiction: You either end up locked-up, covered-up, or sober-up. Fortunately for American letters and herself, Karr sobered up.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

Sinners welcome

Sinners welcome : poems / Mary Karr. -- New York : HarperCollins, c2006.
93 p. ; 22 cm.
Contents: Pathetic fallacy -- Revelations in the key of K -- Oratorio for the unbecoming -- Disgraceland -- Métaphysique du mal -- Descending theology. The Nativity -- Delinquent missive -- This lesson you’ve got -- The choice -- A major -- Waiting for God : self-portrait as skeleton -- At the sound of the gunshot, leave a message -- Elegy for a rain salesman -- Who the meek are not -- Hypertrophied football star as serial killer -- Orders from the invisible -- Requiem : Professor Walt Mink (1927-1996) -- Pluck -- Descending theology. Christ human -- Miss Flame, apartment bound, as undiscovered porn star -- Reference for ex-man’s next -- Winter term’s end -- Entering the kingdom -- Descending theology. The garden -- Hurt Hospital’s best suicide jokes -- Sinners welcome -- The first step -- A tapestry figure escapes for occupancy in the real world, which includes the death of her mother -- Mister Cogito posthumous -- For a dying tomcat who’s relinquished his former hissing and predatory nature -- Coat hanger bent into halo -- Last love -- The ice fisherman -- Descending theology. The crucifixion -- Red-circled want ad for my son on his commencement -- Son’s room -- Easter at Al Qaeda Bodega -- Garment district sweatshop -- Overdue pardon for mother with knife -- Descending theology. The resurrection -- A blessing from my sixteen years’ son -- Orphanage -- Still memory -- Meditatio -- Afterword: Facing altars : poetry and prayer.
ISBN: 0060776544

1. America poetry -- 21st century. 2. Christian poetry, American.

811.54


If the neon cross on the cover and the title hadn’t forewarned me the latest book of poems by the author of The Liar’s Club and Cherry, the large amount of traditional Christian religious imagery and subject matter would have come as bit of a surprise. Her memoirs of growing up in East Texas contain few references to religion and only a passing allusion to infrequent church visits with neighbors and a fight with girl who accused her (accurately) of saying that the pope dressed like a girl. Other than that there’s her flat statement on page 44 of The Liar’s Club, “We didn’t go to church.” Had I read her previous volumes of poetry I would have been more prepared, but I hadn’t.

So reading Sinners Welcome reminded me of the bits on Monty Python when John Cleese intones, “And now for something completely different.” If you are like me, you might want to start at the back of the book with the essay “Facing Altars: Poetry and Prayer,” which tells of her 1996 conversion, “after a lifetime of undiluted agnosticism.” The poems themselves are clear, as befits a poet that proclaimed herself, “Against Decoration,” but certainly not without vivid images and language. And although religious, they are certainly not pious, as witnessed by titles like, “Hypertrophied Football Star as Serial Killer,” “Hurt Hospital’s Best Suicide Jokes,” and ”At the Sound of the Gunshot, Leave a Message.”