The first Lady Lit book, read for our natal month!
nati: February was a month of beginnings. I read this first lady lit book with the fitting urgency of someone who just moved into a new apartment (running away from? running away to?). Or maybe it was the book, which I found so filled with raw energy that I devoured it over and over again in my empty, internet-less bedroom.
yan: a fiery start to Lady Lit! I loved falling in love with reading again through this book. We sat at the window table of the first cafe in our neighborhood (as old as we are) to discuss this, contemplating honeybadgers over focaccia sandwiches and coffee. Mao’s poetry is so empowering to experience, at once tempestuous and grounding. It is easy to feel nostalgia for faraway places and long ago times in the middle of a Chicago winter. In choosing this book, I think we were playing out some deep sense of longing for our alma mater, for marble hallways, for squirrels and trees on the quad, for sipping soup at Temple of Zeus.
“Such a gift for recontextualizing images amid gushes of lush descriptors lends a disorienting air even among signs of comfort. It’s an intoxicating mix, and as with any intoxicant, you’re better off surrendering to its effects than fighting to control its power.” :: Alex Crowley