|
Sinners Welcome: Poems
by Mary Karr
Confessional
A review by Judith Kitchen
If you appreciated the irreverent voice of Mary Karr's The
Liars' Club, you can find it again in "Facing Altars: Poetry and Prayer,"
the afterword to her fourth book of poems, Sinners Welcome. Chronicling
a move from "undiluted agnosticism" to tempered Catholicism, Karr begins,
"To confess my unlikely Catholicism in Poetry -- the journal that first published
some of the godless twentieth-century disillusionaries of J. Alfred Prufrock and
his pals -- feels like an act of perversion kinkier than any dildo-wielding dominatrix
could manage on HBO's 'Real Sex Extra.' " But poetry, with its penchant for
image as well as idea, has always served as a bridge between the sacred and the
mundane, so it is no surprise that Karr, a poet long before she wrote her well-known
memoir, turned to her roots when life seemed to have turned its back on her. However,
it took her son's desire to attend church -- "to see if God's there"
-- to get Karr into the congregation.
"Like poetry," Karr writes, "prayer often begins in torment,
until the intensity of language forges a shape worthy of both labels: 'true'
and 'beautiful.' ... With both prayer and poetry, we use elegance to exalt,
but we also beg and grieve and tremble." She also finds essential differences:
In prayer, she can enter a wordless silence where even her "sidewinding
nihilism"is received with compassion. In giving thanks, she can find her
fitful way toward song.
Karr clearly means for readers to encounter her statement of faith after reading
the poetry, but the poems of Sinners Welcome benefit from the reader's
knowing the erratic trajectory of her journey. For example, "Descending
Theology" -- a five-poem sequence depicting the story of Christ, derived
from exercises central to Jesuit training -- weaves itself through the 39 other
poems that take up themes personal and political. The result is a provocative
dialogue between the religious and the secular. Pondering the human Christ,
Karr uses alliteration and internal rhyme to make her point:
You came among beasts
as one, came into our care or its lack, came crying
as we all do, because the human frame
is a crucifix, each skeletos borne a lifetime.
Religion is no palliative in Sinners Welcome . Karr calls herself a "black-belt
sinner," and, by looking hard at her own human imperfections, she must
painfully work her way toward spiritual and poetic grace. The poems not only
confront personal deficits -- as mother, daughter, sister, wife, lover -- but
also move into the imagined realm of serial killer, porn star, sweatshop worker
and suicide victim. Sometimes a larger vision reminds the poet that her life,
however difficult, has also been blessed. Thus, when her mother's ashes arrive
"in a Ziploc bag," the speaker arrives at a universal understanding:
"Love/is so rare, any such handful of ash/holds the whole world's weight."
The most moving of the poems are those in which the speaker wrestles with the
emotions of letting go -- a son's departure for college, a love she "never
was intended for," the untimely deaths of friends. Particularly poignant
is "Elegy for a Rain Salesman" with its complex interplay of speech
and silence. Such losses cause the speaker to wonder "if some less/than
loving watcher//watches us," but the skepticism is mitigated by Karr's
humor, her mildly ironic stance and her capacity for wry self-examination. Theology
takes on a kind of earthy insight; set against an understated backdrop of persistent
violence (the smoke of 9/11, the specter of Nazi Germany), the restless interchange
between the devout and the degraded creates a potent synergy:
And I worry the form I'll finally take (death
lesson) and whether I can be made to leave
on anyone some mark worth bearing.
In contrast to the laid-back gusto of the final essay, the poems garner strength
from compression: Nouns act as verbs, and lines perform as aphorisms ("We
suffer the luxury of disbelief"). Karr's syncopated music takes some getting
used to, but reading her poems aloud helps liberate their tightly packed meanings.
As Karr knows, her endeavor is ages old. It may be that all lyric poetry aspires
to prayer. What gives Sinners Welcome its sharp edge is the poet's eloquently
passionate struggle at the junction of doubt and devotion.
Judith
Kitchen is the author of two books of essays and a novel. She regularly
reviews poetry for the Georgia Review.
|
The
Washington Post Book World gives
readers comprehensive literary coverage, including reviews, news briefs,
and guest essays from authors. It's a weekly package of reviews, essays, and features on what's hot in the
literary world and can also be seen on WashingtonPost.com. Click here
for additional reviews and live web chats with reviewers.
|
|
|