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America’s beloved Julia Alvarez returns to her first form, poetry, in her latest collection, with scintillating poems drawn from across her life like stars from the sky. As I approach the closing stanzas of a long life practicing my craft, I feel the need to collect the many loose poems I've been writing into a book that follows the many incarnations and voices of my writing selves over the years. Each of the poems included here are visitations from writing selves of the past and present that still have something to say to me and, I hope, to my readers, Julia Alvarez tells us. In these poems...
America’s beloved Julia Alvarez returns to her first form, poetry, in her latest collection, with scintillating poems drawn from across her life like stars from the sky. As I approach the closing stanzas of a long life practicing my craft, I feel the need to collect the many loose poems I've been writing into a book that follows the many incarnations and voices of my writing selves over the years. Each of the poems included here are visitations from writing selves of the past and present that still have something to say to me and, I hope, to my readers, Julia Alvarez tells us. In these poems, Alvarez traces her life gently, a fingertip following lines on a page, through memories of her childhood in the Dominican Republic, a dictatorship dramatically survived, the smell of sancocho and sofrito, tías and the sisters who forged her, her move to America and the challenges of learning English, the search for mental health and beauty, redemption, and success. We meet her grandchild and her mother, her lovers, and the homes where she grew up and into the formidable writer read in thousands of classrooms across America today. In these poems, her wisdom is as clear and beautiful as the light that shines through crystal, and yet grounded through form and the substance of self-knowing. Told with a storyteller’s intimacy and the comfort of a warm hearth, here is a master writer’s reflection on family, aging, love, the body, having a voice, and the very act of poetry itself, experienced across the arc of decades—a collection of searching for an artistic voice, for the author’s very essence, until “the way it sometimes happens: we arrive / where we were promised, belong to / what we longed for in ourselves, each other.”
