Terresa Wellborn: "Shedding"

(It's been a while since my last "Mormon Poetry Project" reading, so I thought I'd drop at least one more on you before the end of the year. Enjoy.)

Yesterday, in my continuing quest to track down Mormon poets, I happened upon Terresa Wellborn's blog, "The Chocolate Chip Waffle [Eating Words and Drinking Poetry]" and was struck by the quality of her poetry. Many of the blog poets I've come across have (how shall I say this?) good intentions, but their poetry suffers from sentimentality, which I define as unearned emotion. But I didn't find that here. Terresa's voice is distinctive, clear, and strong and her phrasing is often striking.

In Terresa's poem "Shedding," which is about just that: shedding old "skin," I see places where her language could easily turn cliche, but she keeps it fresh by introducing a fresh comparison, as here: "a bone dry grandmother / who can't be mulched, replanted." Here: "friend's voices rasping like / shells against sand." Here: "I shudder, spent as a marigold / dropping its petals." And here: "iridescent skin / listening to the sun." I especially like how she uses "listening" in a place where many might have said "glistening." The parallel between the words surely acknowledges the latter, but she says a lot more about hearing corporeal experience by leaving off the "g."

I think these are the real bright spots in this poem and I felt them worth highlighting in terms of my present project, especially because such textual moments as these leave me rethinking my own language and my own experience.

Anyway, more of Terresa's poems can be found here, if you're interested in further reading. I think they're well-worth at least a few minutes engagement, if not more.

Done. And. Done.

I submitted my last paper early this morning. Too early, really, to remember the exact time. But it's submitted.

And I'm officially on winter break.

Time to dive into the projects I've been playing at for a couple of months. Here's the first of three somewhat related enterprises on which I would love your feedback:

*Drafting a course in Mormon literature for a program internship.

I'm tentatively calling this "Reading the Mormon Experience: Contemporary Latter-day Saint Fiction, Poetry, and Drama." (That's the l-o-n-g title). I've considered making this a survey of Mormon literary history, starting with four weeks spent wading through Mormon lit's beginnings (the first century: 1830-1930)---reading early sermons, histories, auto/biographies, letters/journals/diaries, fiction, and poetry. But I don't know if I can justify spending---then spending the rest of the semester with more contemporary texts, but I'm not sure if I want to justify reading things from the first century when there are sources I could turn to that provide a fairly good review of this period, its significance for later Mormon lit, and the main concerns undertaken by Mormon lit. I'm thinking especially of Terryl Givens' People of Paradox: A History of Mormon Culture and Eugene England's "Dawning of a Brighter Day." Can you think of any others?

I wonder especially about justifying the first century stuff since this would be for a Idaho State and would constitute the first course of its kind in the department (as far as I know). I'm thinking, for the time being, that I should stick with texts that would be considered quality literature from the department's perspective (if that makes any sense). Or am I just glossing over a part of Mormon literary history that's needed to contextualize later work?

Aside from those concerns, I'm really interested in exploring the contemporary Mormon experience through contemporary Mormon fiction, poetry, and drama. And there's plenty of high quality stuff to occupy a semester (and beyond). I've started a list, but before I post that, I wonder what texts you informed readers of Mormon literature would like to see explored in such a course. Thoughts?

(More to come.)

Didn't Expect That...

Last week when I posted "When Twilight Studies Meets Mormon Studies" on AMV, I didn't expect the conversation to extend past the day. But, as of last night, it's still going strong. Part of the continued discussion, I think, has to do with appearance of an AMV newbie who has asked some great questions. And AMV's community of readers has responded with great respect that's moved the discussion, at least this is how I see it, onto common rhetorical ground. It's been a great example for me of the possibilities of responsible, respectful dialogue between people of different backgrounds, different faiths.

On another note, it has also shown me the worth of discussing Twilight in terms of its cultural presence (worldwide: the commenter, Sharon, is from Australia) and its unique grounding in Meyer's Mormonism. Last night I stumbled upon a comment about the uselessness of such efforts on the Mormon Apologetic and Discussion Board. And, imagine this: my recent Dialogue review is at the center of the brief discussion. How fun for me.

I also stumbled across another brief discussion of my review at Caitlyn's "Book Scoop" Blog. This one is much more positive, however. It begins by positing a young woman, a BYU-I student, sitting at a table reading *gasp* Twilight. Then Caitlyn moves into discussing the "why" of the book's popularity, specifically within Mormon circles of young adults. And, imagine this (again): she uses something from my review for justification.

And one final note: A revised version of my review (and of the revision of that review, "Toward a Mormon Gothic") will be published in the forthcoming issue of Sunstone.

As if my ego needed more inflating, but...yes! Validation! My meager Twilight studies efforts aren't wholly useless. Someone's finding merit in them, despite the objections some have to serious study of such "minor" literature.

The Big Three-oh (Plus a Revision)

In honor of the blessed occasion, a revision of "After Winter Nursing" in which I attempt to clarify and unify the poem's imagery and (per Luisa's request) give readers the chance for a mental breath via periods. 

All the usuals apply.

Oh, and Happy Birthday to me.

*

After Winter Nursing

I imagine myself newborn. Mouth 
dripping with nipple and milk 
warm as the rest between breaths

when the flesh goes lax against 
death. Stutters between syllables
of desire. Cozies up to the grave 

as to memories nursed 
over the mourning dove's elegy 
the winter Keats slipped beneath

my skin. Nestled into the swaddling 
mother knit around my soul 
before she raised me to breasts 

heavy as temptation. Latched me on 
to her heritage, Eve calling come 
eat from the kitchen as she filled

an eight by three by six basin 
with desire enough to top off 
the abyss. To trigger the contraction

of God's womb, Eden's walls bearing 
down on my hunger. Birthing stars 
like purled bodies 

sweating as snow down a window 
fogged by childhood wanting in. 
Panting its catechism. 

Asking what it means when 
the mourning dove sings even though 
winter’s come. Even though

the dove’s coo may just be a coo. 
Even though I’ve been asking 
since Keats came in from the cold 

when a bird’s just a bird. Snow just snow. 
Flesh just flesh. Death just death. God
just breath on a memory, marking 

where I buried placenta and soul
in this landscape suddenly blank 
as DNA the moment of conception. 

Base pairs copulating like voices
singing back-up in a dream. The one
where I'm Adam. Or is it Eve? Keats? 

My mother? God? Me? Sitting opposite 
winter. Watching question marks 
punctuate a garden: sprouts turned

fruit-bearing trees, branches heavy
with burial urns heavy with milk
still warm as the rest between breaths.

So Proud

The six-year-old wrote her first poem last night and it's worth blockquoting:

I jab a crab and
land flat on sand.

I love how she disrupts the iamb by throwing "flat" in there. I sense a master poet in the making...

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