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Lupine
An unflinching new collection from poet, Jenny Irish, in which cultural violence against women is explored through various personae.
At the heart of all violence is fear: Lupine is a gathering of feminist prose poetry engaging themes of ecology, animality, and the human unknown. A series of interconnected dramatic monologues, the poems inhabit the personae of figures traditionally deemed Monstrous, giving them voice to confront and reclaim the violent mythologies that have so often been imposed upon them. As these unmuzzled monsters speak, the collection collapses the boundaries between the self and the subjugated other, ultimately upending the discourse of monstrosity itself. By exposing how women are villainized and sacrificed in response to cultural fear, Lupine offers a corrective to social narratives in which notions of the bestial and notions of the feminine are intimately entwined.
“A fang concealed inside a flower, Lupine has a mythological sense of ecopoetics, one in which nature is often vindicated, in all its mossy, sinewy, animal luster, for the violence we as humans have enacted upon it. Jenny Irish has an unflinching eye, interrogating ‘spectacle and specimen,’ wielding a mirror against cruel and patriarchal abuses of power. This language of survival drips with ‘darkness as she welcomes herself in’ to reconsider what has traditionally been called wicked, or monstrous, or other. Challenging our preconceived notions of narrative, Irish lets wildness pulse against the edges of her sentences, ‘obscene up close,’ but ‘all a-light’—the reader is left dazzled, transformed.” —Jenny Molberg, author of Refusal
“Lupine is a rare feat of a chapbook, in which the poet Jenny Irish dawns the masks of so many monsters to tell us vividly how our culture fails women. "From shadows, we make stories” our speaker reminds us, and Irish shows us how the object casting the shadow is often the haphazard negligence we regard each other with. This book is a bestiary of deep lyric knowing, from the first poem to the closing, immaculate question that makes Lupine’s final line, what we’re given is a chorus of beasts we can’t help but think look like us.” —C.T. Salazar, author of Headless John the Baptist Hitchhiking
“Just like the botanical ferocity that accompanies its title, Lupine by Jenny Irish cracks the fangs from the aggressor, reveling in a primitive magic where women confront and disrupt their default historical fates. A delightfully dark examination of fear, and interrogation of the cautionary tale, Irish’s collection offers advice that resonates from deep past into contemporary life. For example, in “Harpy,” we are told, ‘Girl-child, if you must hate yourself, let it be for lack of talent rather than the body your soul inherited,’ while in ‘Witch’ we hear, ‘A good girl keeps her mouth shut, and a bad girl gets the sound smacked out, and a smart girl knows she will be punished either way.’ Resplendent with magnificent animals, abundant flora, and unforgettable voices, Lupine is a showcase of the dramatic monologue at its wicked best.” —Mary Biddinger, author of Department of Elegy
At the heart of all violence is fear: Lupine is a gathering of feminist prose poetry engaging themes of ecology, animality, and the human unknown. A series of interconnected dramatic monologues, the poems inhabit the personae of figures traditionally deemed Monstrous, giving them voice to confront and reclaim the violent mythologies that have so often been imposed upon them. As these unmuzzled monsters speak, the collection collapses the boundaries between the self and the subjugated other, ultimately upending the discourse of monstrosity itself. By exposing how women are villainized and sacrificed in response to cultural fear, Lupine offers a corrective to social narratives in which notions of the bestial and notions of the feminine are intimately entwined.
“A fang concealed inside a flower, Lupine has a mythological sense of ecopoetics, one in which nature is often vindicated, in all its mossy, sinewy, animal luster, for the violence we as humans have enacted upon it. Jenny Irish has an unflinching eye, interrogating ‘spectacle and specimen,’ wielding a mirror against cruel and patriarchal abuses of power. This language of survival drips with ‘darkness as she welcomes herself in’ to reconsider what has traditionally been called wicked, or monstrous, or other. Challenging our preconceived notions of narrative, Irish lets wildness pulse against the edges of her sentences, ‘obscene up close,’ but ‘all a-light’—the reader is left dazzled, transformed.” —Jenny Molberg, author of Refusal
“Lupine is a rare feat of a chapbook, in which the poet Jenny Irish dawns the masks of so many monsters to tell us vividly how our culture fails women. "From shadows, we make stories” our speaker reminds us, and Irish shows us how the object casting the shadow is often the haphazard negligence we regard each other with. This book is a bestiary of deep lyric knowing, from the first poem to the closing, immaculate question that makes Lupine’s final line, what we’re given is a chorus of beasts we can’t help but think look like us.” —C.T. Salazar, author of Headless John the Baptist Hitchhiking
“Just like the botanical ferocity that accompanies its title, Lupine by Jenny Irish cracks the fangs from the aggressor, reveling in a primitive magic where women confront and disrupt their default historical fates. A delightfully dark examination of fear, and interrogation of the cautionary tale, Irish’s collection offers advice that resonates from deep past into contemporary life. For example, in “Harpy,” we are told, ‘Girl-child, if you must hate yourself, let it be for lack of talent rather than the body your soul inherited,’ while in ‘Witch’ we hear, ‘A good girl keeps her mouth shut, and a bad girl gets the sound smacked out, and a smart girl knows she will be punished either way.’ Resplendent with magnificent animals, abundant flora, and unforgettable voices, Lupine is a showcase of the dramatic monologue at its wicked best.” —Mary Biddinger, author of Department of Elegy
- GenresPoetry
34 pages, Paperback
Published March 28, 2023
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
August 22, 2024
Whoa. This book is intense and amazing. It’s like you sat down to read from the brothers Grimm and witches came out and grabbed you by the throat.
By which I mean it is grounded in folklore and violence and womanhood and truth.
My favorite poem in the collection is “The Woods Are Dangerous, Dark and Deep.” When you get to “I might have wanted a life too” in that poem it is devastating.
But I also texted people about Harpy because wow. “Girl-child, if you must hate yourself, let it be for lack of talent rather than the body your soul inherited.”
Ethical Concerns is a devastating takedown of Victorian tableaux vivants.
The book opens with “Artist’s Statement,” which, in its slinky, brutal originality immediately lets you know that Jenny Irish is not messing around - “the stamp of the corpse to evoke the living thing.”
In case you didn’t get it right away, “A Brief History of Motivations” goes for the jugular.
I notice I am quoting a lot of last lines - they really hit. But the whole thing is so dark and mythical and monstrous. It’s a vicious read but so good.
This is the sort of book where I want to immediately find everything else this author has ever written.
By which I mean it is grounded in folklore and violence and womanhood and truth.
My favorite poem in the collection is “The Woods Are Dangerous, Dark and Deep.” When you get to “I might have wanted a life too” in that poem it is devastating.
But I also texted people about Harpy because wow. “Girl-child, if you must hate yourself, let it be for lack of talent rather than the body your soul inherited.”
Ethical Concerns is a devastating takedown of Victorian tableaux vivants.
The book opens with “Artist’s Statement,” which, in its slinky, brutal originality immediately lets you know that Jenny Irish is not messing around - “the stamp of the corpse to evoke the living thing.”
In case you didn’t get it right away, “A Brief History of Motivations” goes for the jugular.
I notice I am quoting a lot of last lines - they really hit. But the whole thing is so dark and mythical and monstrous. It’s a vicious read but so good.
This is the sort of book where I want to immediately find everything else this author has ever written.
October 15, 2023
These prose poems are an interesting dark mix of fairy-tale inspired characters/imagery and macabre/grotesque real-life violence, interspersed with earthy, visceral imagery of love and devotion. It's a complicated collection. I'd locate this within a larger contemporary trend of feminist (as well as queer and POC) reworkings of fairy tale material, often making them significantly darker and more foreboding to explore issues of violence against women, oppression, and other related topics.
https://youtu.be/rf5LOd5zYRA
https://youtu.be/rf5LOd5zYRA
May 1, 2023
graphic, beautiful collection. the reflection on death, as if i were wild myself
April 13, 2023
I am a huge fan of Jenny Irish! My first intro was her collection "Tooth Box" which racked me with its brilliance and mastery of language and depth! The same goes for this collection "Lupine"! PLEASE GET A COPY! Irish is a phenomenon who backs off of NOTHING! It's fierce, necessary, and powerful prose!
Here are some quotes:
"Imagine the dark shaping a cycle of words, unreadable. To be unheard
is to be haunted, the ghost in your own house, the house the body,
the body the grave, the grave the ghost, the ghost the absence,
and we are back at the beginning again: imagine the ghosts."
"The ghost are holes worn in the elbow's of history's
most comfortable clothes."
Don't miss out on this spectacular, rich beauty! DEEP LOVE!
Here are some quotes:
"Imagine the dark shaping a cycle of words, unreadable. To be unheard
is to be haunted, the ghost in your own house, the house the body,
the body the grave, the grave the ghost, the ghost the absence,
and we are back at the beginning again: imagine the ghosts."
"The ghost are holes worn in the elbow's of history's
most comfortable clothes."
Don't miss out on this spectacular, rich beauty! DEEP LOVE!
April 15, 2023
A wonder of rapturous prose! Irish summons a world hiding beneath our own in a slim, but mighty thirty pages of some of the finest writing.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews