My Review of Banana Palace, a Poem from Field Guide to the End of the World, and Thanksgiving Rituals, Conflict, and the Idea of Family

My review of Dana Levin’s apocalyptic new book of poetry from Copper Canyon Press, Banana Palace, is up at The Rumpus here. The combination of frightening, weird, and entertaining makes for great holiday weekend reading.

A poem from Field Guide to the End of the World that seems appropriate for our time:

Thanksgiving, Rituals, Conflict, and the Idea of Family

It seems Thanksgiving is almost here, and many of us are thinking about our families and maybe some of us are feeling conflicted. I usually love holidays and rituals but Thanksgiving doesn’t really give me a lot of warm fuzzies right now.  A lot of my memories of Thanksgiving involve stomach aches from the fights my parents would get into, usually in front of a good amount of company I didn’t know well. Also, if any one asks me to count my blessings right now, I’d probably have a strong urge to smack them in the face. Sometimes you have to be honest and say, “Hey. I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy right now. I feel fear and grief and anger.” Maybe we can toss the rituals that don’t belong any more. Maybe we can make new, better rituals.

This Thanksgiving Glenn and I will be celebrating with my little brother and his wife, which will be good – we’ve missed them as they’ve spent some of the last few years traveling out of the country, which I sort of envy. Glenn is a terrific cook and we have started a tradition of eating duck for Thanksgiving (which, let’s face it, is way better than turkey, especially as leftovers.) Maybe we’ll have a Stranger Things Season 2 marathon (Yes, I finally succumbed and just ordered Netflix for the very first time.) Coming back to a sort of altered ritual can be healing – it’s not the stressful, heated holiday I remember, but hopefully one where we can gather and have fun and yes, try and be thankful, and oh yeah, only make the Thanksgiving things you actually want to eat. Toss out the things that don’t work, and keep what does.

I was thinking about the meaning of family. What if you have a family you can’t agree with (not just in politics, though that seems especially highlighted right now with an election that left some of us squarely lined up against others) or just a toxic family overall. a family that doesn’t make you feel loved or supported or accepted? Unfortunately, I think it’s very common.

I encourage us to all think hard this Thanksgiving about who has truly been our family in the sense of making us feel secure, loved, and accepted, and reaching out to those people and thanking them for their support and friendship. Bake some cookies, send a note. I can think of ten people right off the top of my head who made me feel better when I was diagnosed with metastatic cancer earlier this year, people who took the time and effort to reach out to me when I needed them the most. Those people were mostly not people related to me. In a way, that’s sad, but in a way, it shouldn’t surprise us at all – the bonds of modern life shift around us, and merely being related to someone doesn’t guarantee that they will love us, or us them. But the little kindnesses of people that life has thrown in our paths – roommates and coworkers, neighbors and friends – can illuminate our lives, and right now feels like it’s important to remember those kindnesses. Also, people who have been through a major crisis – like cancer or other scary illnesses – have tended to offer the kind of support that I really needed. I know they are tired and fighting their own fights every day, so it’s been inspiring.

And speaking of inspiring…I recently have been spending time with some people that have been really inspiring – a visual artist I’ve been corresponding with for almost ten years, celebrating another writer’s book launch that included beautiful band music – and the awareness that this writer has made it to almost every one of my book launch events since I met her. Meeting with new poet friends to discuss poetry, I appreciate the sincerity and good-heartedness of the writers I’ve met in Seattle. I’m having over another artist friend next week.

This has been a particularly difficult season of a particularly difficult year, and I want to do what I can to create light. Sometimes we can feel powerless in the face of evil. But we are not powerless. We can be there for each other, we can donate our money to causes we believe in, volunteer. Buy art, buy books, write a review.  Befriend someone new. Go out to lunch with an old friend you’ve neglected. And if you have relatives who have been supportive and there for you, yeah, go give them a hug, or at least a phone call.  This year has left me without a lot of time or energy, but I hope I’m being kind to people in the face of their struggles, as kind as people have been to me.

My wish for you this next week is for you to find the family you need – whether that family be the one you were born into, or the one you’ve created for yourself. I often think we find our mothers, brothers, sisters all around us when we look. We cannot overcome evil alone. The hate I’ve seen screaming through the news reports is enough to make anyone retreat into solitude and Netflix. But we are more powerful together.