{"id":25930,"date":"2015-01-27T00:59:21","date_gmt":"2015-01-27T04:59:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/?p=25930"},"modified":"2015-01-27T00:59:21","modified_gmt":"2015-01-27T04:59:21","slug":"review-of-how-i-discovered-poetry-by-marilyn-nelson","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sonderbooks.com\/blog\/?p=25930","title":{"rendered":"Review of How I Discovered Poetry, by Marilyn Nelson"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"how_i_discovered_poetry_large\"<\/a>How I Discovered Poetry<\/em><\/p>\n

by Marilyn Nelson
\nillustrated by Hadley Hooper<\/p>\n

Dial Books, 2014. 103 pages.<\/p>\n

How I Discovered Poetry<\/em> is a series of fourteen poems Marilyn Nelson wrote about growing up black in the 1950s in a military family, her father one of the first Negro officers. She writes about moving around, making friends and saying good-by to them, leaving pets behind, and packing up possessions.<\/p>\n

She touches on racism and Communism and feminism \u2013 but mostly she evokes childhood.<\/p>\n

Here are two of my favorite poems. The first reminds me of games my friends and I played on the playground.<\/p>\n

Moonlily<\/p>\n

(Mather AFB, California, 1956)<\/p>\n

When we play horses at recess, my name
\nis Moonlily and I\u2019m a yearling mare.
\nWe gallop circles around the playground,
\nwhinnying, neighing, and shaking our manes.
\nWe scrape the ground with scuffed saddle oxfords,
\nthunder around the little kids on swings
\nand seesaws, and around the boys\u2019 ball games.
\nWe\u2019re sorrel, chestnut, buckskin, pinto, gray,
\na herd in pastel dresses and white socks.
\nWe\u2019re self-named, untamed, untouched, unridden.
\nOur plains know no fences. We can smell spring.
\nThe bell produces metamorphosis.
\nStill hot and flushed, we file back to our desks,
\none bay in a room of palominos.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Then an early one that includes her first inspiration to be a poet some day:<\/p>\n

Critic<\/p>\n

(Kittery Point, Maine, 1959)<\/p>\n

Daddy pulled a puppy from the pocket
\nof his flight jacket, and we imprinted
\nlike a gosling to a goose. Speida\u2019s my dog, though he\u2019s impartially affectionate.
\nEither he likes poems, or he likes my voice:
\nI read aloud from the anthology
\nI found with Daddy\u2019s other college books
\nand he sits, cocks his head, and wags his tail.
\nMy teacher, Mrs. Gray, told me about
\nthe famous poetess who lived near here.
\nShe says I\u2019ll be a famous poet, too.
\nToday I read Speida one of my poems.
\nHis face got a look of so much disgust
\nI laughed and forgot we\u2019re being transferred.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

marilyn-nelson.com<\/a>
\npenguin.com\/teen<\/a><\/p>\n

Buy from Amazon.com<\/a><\/p>\n

Find this review on Sonderbooks<\/a> at: www.sonderbooks.com\/Childrens_Nonfiction\/how_i_discovered_poetry.html<\/a><\/p>\n

Disclosure: I am an Amazon Affiliate, and will earn a small percentage if you order a book on Amazon after clicking through from my site.<\/p>\n

Source: This review is based on a library book from Fairfax County Public Library.<\/p>\n

Disclaimer: I am a professional librarian, but I maintain my website and blogs on my own time. The views expressed are solely my own, and in no way represent the official views of my employer or of any committee or group of which I am part.<\/p>\n

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