Showing posts with label Bronwen Tate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bronwen Tate. Show all posts

Monday, March 4, 2019

New Orleans Poetry Festival 2019: Hyland, Kaminski, Robinson, Rosenthal, Smith, Sweeney + Tate,

above/ground press authors MC Hyland, Megan Kaminski, Elizabeth Robinson, Sarah Rosenthal, Jessica Smith, Heather Sweeney and Bronwen Tate (as well as a whole slew of other writers) participate in the 2019 New Orleans Poetry Festival and Small Press Fair, which will be held from April 18-21, 2019. I might not be able to attend, but you should totally go! Check out the full schedule here.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Ryan Pratt reviews Bronwen Tate's Vesper Vigil (2016)

Our pal Ryan Pratt was good enough to provide the first review for Bronwen Tate's Vesper Vigil (2016) over at the ottawa poetry newsletter. Thanks much! You can see Pratt's post here. As he writes:
Vesper Vigil by Bronwen Tate
Published by above/ground press, 2016.


"You sleep, I sigh, we mingle breath like lovers –
I reach a stealthy hand, adjust the sheet.
Somewhere between sentiment and complaint
are words to name the child sleeping here"

So begins Vesper Vigil, a collection of sonnets which chronicle the last weeks of Bronwen Tate’s pregnancy with this perfectly succinct ambiguity – how it feels to be pinned down by what we love most. True to her intent, Tate records both the daily parenting of her young son and the approaching birth of her daughter without getting precious or irate. Instead, she employs a tenderness that seesaws between love and pain, gentle yet sore to touch.

“Will this lumpy baby ever come out?”
Owen considers, replies “I don’t know”.
So we measure days in peaches, bruises,
bruised peaches, it’s the body that chooses."

Tate explores the fragile limits of our bodies – how we feed, grow and injure them – within the framework of domesticated routines that gauge her excruciating wait. Every seemingly casual digression probes one of two spectres, the impending pain or joy. They’re a package deal, of course, and her bittersweet tone acknowledges it. Like the development of a fetus, these sonnets mature in nerves that feel deeply rooted thanks to the sing-song rhyme scheme. Each page can encapsulate hours or weeks. Her choice of form allows that compression rate without sacrificing a fluid rhythm, though – as is common with the sonnet – rhymes occasionally raise an eyebrow. (Did she really play disco, or does it just rhyme with San Francisco, etc.?) In any case, by the time she’s admitted to her hospital room, the anxiety and loneliness of third-trimester pregnancy is palpable:

"I’ve taken Misoprostol, Cervidil,
now sitting, watch contraction numbers rise,
one hand to hold the heart monitor still,
slight lag between the pain and peaking highs.
We left with early fog but found no bed,
paced corridors and watched the shifting crane,
took Owen to a playground, sat and read,
called only to be postponed again.
At two at last they showed me to my room,
this prison of uncertain duration,
can’t leave these walls till baby quits the womb,
perch on window bench, await dilation.
Alone now, I breathe through pains, try to sleep.
The road to you be gentle, dark, and steep."

Reading the above selection, I realize how little I’ve contemplated the psychological effects of pregnancy and childbirth. (Just analyzing Tate's thought that, once admitted, she cannot leave the hospital without first enduring an unknown pain gives my pulse a race.) As someone who looks in on parenthood from the outside, that’s my biggest takeaway from this chapbook. Tate manages to imbue archetypal family dynamics with a memorable dose of personal details, creating an unguarded glance at motherhood in transition.

Tuesday, May 17, 2016

new from above/ground press: Vesper Vigil, by Bronwen Tate

Vesper Vigil
Bronwen Tate
$4



What can be closer than my own body?
Known in sensation: heat, pain, and desire —
new furrows, grey hairs, unnoticed freckles,
apprehended in mirrors’ strange angles.
Presence began with the counting of days,
with each ultrasound’s fear and relief,
grew with sickness I delayed meals to know,
then reassured by that nausea, ate toast.
Legible bodies prompt declaration —
I said “due at the end of July.”
Fingers now join silent conversation,
limbs pushing taut skin in reply.
Beloved, still abstraction, I confess,
how can I know you till I see your face?


published in Ottawa by above/ground press
May 2016
a/g subscribers receive a complimentary copy


Cover image: V. Caleb Anderson

Bronwen Tate is the author of the chapbooks Souvenirs (Dusie 2007), Like the Native Tongue the Vanquished (Cannibal Books 2008), Scaffolding (Dusie 2009), if a thermometer (dancing girl press 2011) and The Loss Letters (Dusie 2011). She has taught courses in literature, aesthetics, creative writing, and composition at Brown University, Borough of Manhattan Community College, and Stanford University, where she is currently a lecturer and fellow in the Thinking Matters Program.

To order, send cheques (add $1 for postage; outside Canada, add $2) to: rob mclennan, 2423 Alta Vista Drive, Ottawa ON K1H 7M9 or paypal at www.robmclennan.blogspot.com