Every poem is arguably an ars poetica: Review of听Joshua Jennifer Espinoza鈥檚听I鈥檓 Alive. It Hurts. I Love It.
Dorothy Chan
Reviewed:听I'm Alive. It Hurts. I Love It.听by Joshua Jennifer Espinoza (Big Lucks Books, 2019)
Every poem is arguably an ars poetica. In poetry, the speaker is trying to reach the emotional core and understanding of the subject(s) at hand. While the speaker embarks on this journey towards emotional clarity, the poem itself not only transforms in content, but it also transforms in definition. Poetry is constantly being reshaped, and the book-length long poem is perhaps the greatest display of this idea, as the reader is taken through countless transformations in lines. If every poem contains a volta, or some kind of turn in thought or argument, which moves us towards the poem鈥檚 emotional core, then perhaps the mark of a听good听poem is that it contains multiple turns, mirroring the complexity of human experience. Multiple turns also indicate the speaker鈥檚 honesty and vulnerability: it鈥檚 never one direct answer. This process of emotional discovery co-exists with the process of poetic discovery, and Joshua Jennifer Espinoza鈥檚 newly re-released听I鈥檓 Alive. It Hurts. I Love It. exhibits this idea to the extreme. Espinoza鈥檚 speaker contains multitudes, and the reader is taken through her raw feelings.
First off, I want to emphasize several structural points that frame this collection. Espinoza鈥檚 book is comprised of one long poem that spans 56 pages, followed by a shorter poem that works in conversation (and response) with the preceding piece. Importantly, the entire collection is center-aligned, thus placing the queer trans woman's voice at the very forefront鈥攁t the very center. We need to honor more queer voices prevalent in today鈥檚 literary landscape. We need more queer love. We need more queer joy. We need more queer stories. We need more queer centering. Finally, while the speaker uses 鈥渋鈥 throughout the layered moments of the book, the letter 鈥渋鈥 is interestingly excised from some words that traditionally have 鈥渋鈥 in them, for example, 鈥渇igure鈥 becomes 鈥渇gure鈥 and 鈥渇ive鈥 becomes 鈥渇ve.鈥 One of the most curious omissions is how the 鈥渋鈥 is omitted from the word 鈥渟elfies鈥 in 鈥渋 take so many selfes.鈥 We may think about how 鈥淚鈥 refers back to the self, and throughout, the speaker questions facets of herself while remaining true to her feelings.听
I鈥檓 Alive. It Hurts. I Love It.听is a masterpiece. Espinoza鈥檚 speaker interweaves her confrontations of poetry and gender identity. After all, studying the history of poetics inevitably leads to a confrontation of the problematic and patriarchal interpretations of art. Her speaker calls out the heteropatriarchy, for instance, with the lines 鈥渢he men sneer 鈥榗onfessional poetry鈥 / laugh the blood off their hands.鈥 Yes, poetry is always evolving. And yes, a major part of this ever-changing landscape is ending these patriarchal norms. Confessional poetry is powerful because the poet not only reaches within themselves, but also projects this vulnerability outwards into the larger political and social issues of the moment. Here, the speaker purposely puts 鈥渃onfessional poetry鈥 in quotations. As the speaker knows, in reality, all poetry is confessional, at least to a degree, because every speaker is revealing something personal. But, importantly, Espinoza鈥檚 speaker frames confessional poetry because of gender dynamics. Simply put, the men 鈥渟neer鈥 because it鈥檚 鈥渃onfessional poetry鈥 written by a woman. In addition, these cis males 鈥渟eize permission to draw the voice / from outside their own bodies,鈥 thus asserting not only a binary system, but also a system that steals from bodies that do not belong to them. They also don鈥檛 ask for permission. They 鈥渟eize permission.鈥
Again, in good poetry, there is an evident projection outward, delving into poetic issues that actually reflect larger societal issues. Espinoza鈥檚 collection brings up many questions related to the ars poetica, and the following stanza builds on the problems of gendered coding of confessional poetry:
all I ask for is night sky,
extra clouds,
feeling in my hands,
mania that isn鈥檛
only another poem about itself.
I love how the speaker asks for 鈥渕ania that isn鈥檛 / only another poem about itself.鈥 This stanza is then followed by these lines on the next page, 鈥淚 don鈥檛 want to necessarily tell you my name.鈥 The critique of the 鈥減oem about itself鈥濃攖he poem that does not use its interiority to confront larger, exterior issues鈥攊s then followed by an answer and a reveal: 鈥淚 don鈥檛 want to necessarily tell you my name.鈥 And there鈥檚 the volta: right on the next page. The speaker gives us an even deeper reveal. The speaker鈥檚 feelings are multi-dimensional and stem from the heteropatriarchal governing of women鈥檚 and trans women鈥檚 words, bodies, and even听names. People with more privilege may casually ask 鈥淲hat鈥檚 in a name?鈥 or link naming to a casual manner, but Espinoza鈥檚 speaker, instead, reflects on the emotional significance and ties of a name, of how it rests at the intersection of the interior and exterior, of the self and the world. Another response comes from the speaker, regarding her name:
it was given to me like yours was you
听听听听听听听听听听听 on the edges of a shock wave
riding its way through spaces we occupy.
how does it feel escaping your lips?
(i don鈥檛 actually want to know)
if i say my name i name you implicitly
With the discussion of naming also comes the discussion of womanhood and female desire. I admire how Espinoza gets to the core of these desires. I love how she names her desires. I also admire the book鈥檚 basic framing structure of the violence of men on women鈥檚 bodies, or as the speaker confesses:
i鈥檝e noticed when I write about god
with an antagonistic slant
i tend to use he/him pronouns
and when I talk about god
as something more subtle or possibly benevolent
i always use she/her pronouns.
on a daily basis i fnd myself
becoming less and less concerned
with other people鈥檚 idea of what poetry is
and also with my own idea
of what poetry is.
i am like mark Wahlberg in boogie nights
but instead of having a giant penis
i have a giant heart
and when it metaphorically unfurls from my chest
i am sitting cross-legged on my bed
Once again, the internal self and external world work together to create a larger poetic meaning. The move of 鈥渋 always use she/her pronouns鈥 when referring to a more benevolent god resonates throughout the book-length poem, from lines like 鈥渋 was fve different girls at once鈥 to the climax of 鈥渕y whole day is making myself feel / more like a 鈥榬eal鈥 girl / and less like a disintegrating one,鈥 to another culminating line, 鈥渢here is a place called woman,鈥 and to the ending line of 鈥渋t鈥檚 all a part of me and i am in love with it.鈥澨
Again, Espinoza鈥檚 speaker identifies the benevolence of the she/her god rather than the he/him god, and this distinction makes way for landscapes such as a 鈥減lace called woman鈥 and the multitudes of emotions and characteristics that the speaker unravels. The speaker gets to the root of desire of her queer womanhood, and the book-length poem becomes ars poetica with the turns in the above stanzas, moving from the female god, to the discussion of poetry. The speaker becomes 鈥渓ess concerned / with other people鈥檚 ideas of what poetry is,鈥 along with her own ideas. I believe this rawness of 鈥渓ess concerned鈥 relates to the speaker鈥檚 acknowledgment of poetry as听reveal.听The more we learn about our own truths, the less the prescribed rules of poetry apply. The craft of poetry accelerates and evolves in this way. We remake poetry as a reflection of the self.听
Espinoza鈥檚 speaker鈥檚 questioning of herself and how she embodies her own womanhood is raw, real, and striking. I admire this book so much鈥攆or its questions, such as 鈥渨here is the woman in me?鈥 and for its queer love and joy:
our love is radical.
our love fucks shit up.
our love storms.
our love breathes.
And I love the epiphany, and I want to emphasize another turn that comes near the end: 鈥渋 feel like god the day she rejected / prescribed masculinity and started painting / her face with the remnants of stars. // give me a 鈥業 feel alive.鈥欌 This move echoes the female god. This move also echoes the 鈥減lace called woman.鈥 In her poetry, Joshua Jennifer Espinoza delves into the internal by moving through the ars poetica鈥攕he allows poetry to guide her questions of self. And with these questions of self, the poet then opens up the confessional into the larger societal landscape: questioning modes of heternormativity and prescribed masculinity, thus reclaiming what鈥檚 rightfully female. In stating that there is a 鈥減lace called woman鈥 and in asserting that she feels 鈥渓ike god the day she rejected / prescribed masculinity,鈥 the speaker celebrates the power of the female voice to its fullest degree. Furthermore, the poet creates her own universe within the work, both internally and externally. The queer voice is placed at the very center, and in the words of Espinoza, this voice is 鈥渞adical.鈥 This voice 鈥渇ucks shit up.鈥 This voice 鈥渟torms.鈥 And this voice 鈥渂reathes.鈥
听is the author of听Chinese Girl Strikes Back听(Spork Press, forthcoming 2021),听Revenge of the Asian Woman听(Diode Editions, 2019),听Attack of the Fifty-Foot Centerfold听(Spork Press, 2018), and the chapbook听Chinatown Sonnets听(New Delta Review, 2017). She is a two-time Ruth Lilly and Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry Fellowship finalist, a 2020 finalist for the Lambda Literary Award in Bisexual Poetry for听Revenge of the Asian Woman, and a 2019 recipient of the Philip Freund Prize in Creative Writing from Cornell University. Her work has appeared in听POETRY,听The American Poetry Review,听Academy of American Poets, and elsewhere. Chan is an assistant professor of English at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire, poetry editor of听Hobart, book review co-editor of听Pleiades,听and founding editor and editor in chief of听Honey Literary.