Sina Queyras

Poetry succeeds where science fails to measure grief. A brilliant new collection by the esteemed Sina Queyras.

A poem-by-poem engagement with Sylvia Plath's Ariel and the towering mythology surrounding it.When I am a bitch I feel in such good company.Nice girls never gave me anything but trouble,Eating the ground out from under me, then wavingAs I fall. Pity one has to die to see how liberatingBad can be. But what news had I of my own self?Words landed like razors, hours tinkled, suitors arrived.Listen, you'll think otherwise, but I tell you, betrayalIs your Get Out of Jail Free card. Take it,Don't look back. Of course you will. Look back.We always do, we who adore the muscleOf our cashmere cells, a cock that makesOur knees weak. Darlings, don't be sweet,Or serviceable. Don't accommodate,Write in blood or don't bother ...Where were you when you first read Ariel? Who were you? What has changed in your life? In the lives of women? In My Ariel, Sina Queyras barges into one of the iconic texts of the twentieth century, with her own family baggage in tow, exploring and exploding the cultural norms, forms, and procedures that frame and contain the lives of women.

My Ariel

If you open your mouth, ache. If you don't open your mouth, swelter. If you open your mouth but hold your breath, ether. If you look for colour, coral and tea leaves. If you follow the moon, wet and concrete. If you cling to the earth, pistol and candy apple. If you give up your garden, maze and globe, hydrangeas and moon vines. If you lose your shoes, pumice and strain. If you have no money, tin and clang. As meditative practices focus on the axis of breath, these poems focus on the moment of action, of thought, on the flux of speech. This is a poetry not of snapshots or collages but of long-exposed captures of the not-so-still lives of women. One sequence imagines Virginia Woolf's childhood; another unmakes her novel The Waves by attempting to untangle its six overlapping narratives. Yet another, 'On the Scent,' makes us flaneurs through the lives of a series of contemporary women, while 'The River Is All Thumbs' uses a palette of vibrant repetition to 'paint' a landscape. Queyras's language - astute, insistent, languorous - repeats and echoes until it becomes hypnotic, chimerical, almost halluncinatory in its reflexivity. How lyrical can prose poetry be? How closely can it mimic painting? Sculpture? Film? How do we make a moment firm? These 'postmodern,' 'postfeminist' poems pulse between prose and poetry: the line, the line, they seem to ask, must it ever end?

Lemon Hound

From a Lambda-winning poet, Rooms shows the defining spaces a queer writer moved through as they found their way to a life of words. Thirty years ago, a professor threw a chair at Sina Queyras after they'd turned in an essay on Virginia Woolf. Queyras returns to that contentious first encounter with Virignia Woolf to recover the body and thinking of that time. Rooms, bodies, Beadles: using Woolf's A Room of One's Own as a touchstone, this book is both an homage to and provocation of the idea of a room of one's own at the centre of our idea of a literary life. How central is the room? And what happens once we get one? Do we inhabit our rooms? Or do the rooms contain us? Blending memoir, prose, tweets, poetry, and criticism, Rooms offers a peek into the defining spaces a young queer writer moved through as they found their way from a life of chaos to a life of the mind, and from a very private life of the mind to a public life of the page, and from a life of the page into a life in the Academy, the Internet, and social medias. "Queyras is smart and insightful in her work to expand and challenge the nature of language and poetry ... Lend Queyras your ears, your minds, your hearts, your Time. She will reward you, repeatedly." --The Rumpus on MxT

Women, Words, Whiteness, Woolf

Rooms

This poem resembles urban sprawl. This poem resembles the freedom to charge a fee. The fee occurs in the gaps. It is an event. It is not without precedent. It is a moment in which you pay money. It is a tribute to freedom of choice. Reality is a parking lot in Qatar. Reality is an airstrip in Malawi. Meanwhile the expressway encloses, the expressway round and around the perimeters like wagon trains circling the bonfire, all of them, guns pointed, Busby Berkeley in the night sky. Expressway exposes the paradox of modern mobility: the more roads and connections we build, the more separate we feel. Sina Queyras has written a bravely lyrical critique of our ethical and ecological imprint, a legacy easily blamed on corporations and commerce, but one we've allowed, through our tacit acquiescence, to overwhelm us. Every brush stroke, every bolt and nut, every form and curve in our networks of oil and rubber, every thought and its material outcome each decision can make and unmake us.

Expressway

2007 Winner of the Pat Lowther Award and a Lambda Literary Award As meditative practices focus on the axis of breath, these poems focus on the moment of action, of thought, on the flux of speech. This is a poetry not of snapshots or collages but of long-exposed captures of the not-so-still lives of women. One sequence imagines Virginia Woolf’s childhood; another unmakes her novel The Waves by attempting to untangle its six overlapping narratives. Yet another, ‘On the Scent,’ makes us flâneurs through the lives of a series of contemporary women, while ‘The River Is All Thumbs’ uses a palette of vibrant repetition to ‘paint’ a landscape. Queyras’s language – astute, insistent, languorous – repeats and echoes until it becomes hypnotic, chimerical, almost halluncinatory in its reflexivity. How lyrical can prose poetry be? How closely can it mimic painting? Sculpture? Film? How do we make a moment firm? These ‘postmodern,’ ‘postfeminist’ poems pulse between prose and poetry: the line, the line, they seem to ask, must it ever end? Sina Queyras's latest collection of poetry, Expressway, was nominated for a Governor General's Award and won Gold at the National Magazine Awards. Her previous collection Lemon Hound won a Lambda Award and the Pat Lowther Award. She has taught creative writing at Rutgers, Haverford and Concordia University in Montreal where she now resides.

From LAMBDA Literary Award winner Sina Queyras, Rooms offers a peek into the defining spaces a young queer writer moved through as they found their way from a life of chaos to a life of the mind Thirty years ago, a professor threw a chair at Sina Queyras after they’d turned in an essay on Virginia Woolf. Queyras returns to that contentious first encounter with Virignia Woolf to recover the body and thinking of that time. Using Woolf’s A Room of One’s Own as a touchstone, this book is both an homage to and provocation of the idea of a room of one’s own at the centre of our idea of a literary life. How central is the room? And what happens once we get one? Do we inhabit our rooms? Or do the rooms contain us? Blending memoir, prose, tweets, poetry, and criticism, Rooms offers a peek into the defining spaces a young queer writer moved through as they found their way from a life of chaos to a life of the mind, and from a very private life of the mind to a public life of the page, and from a life of the page into a life in the Academy, the Internet, and on social media. "With Virginia Woolf alongside them, Queyras journeys through rooms literal and figurative, complicating and deepening our understanding of what it means to create space for oneself as a writer. Their hard-won language challenges us to resist any glib associations of Woolf’s famous ‘room’ with an easy freedom. Inspiring and moving, Queyras’s memoir testifies to Woolf’s continuing generative power."—Mark Hussey, editor of Virginia Woolf's Between the Acts (2011) and author of Clive Bell and the Making of Modernism (2021) "In this beautiful, perceptive book, Sina Queyras moves deftly between the words and wake of Virginia Woolf and their own formation as writer, lover, teacher, friend, and person. Rooms is expert in its depiction of personal and literary histories, and firmly aware of its moment of composition. Reading these pages, I was enticed by Queyras’s curiosity and openness, thrilled by the sharp edges of their anger. Tight prose, electric thinking, self-discovery – it’s all here, all abuzz. Rooms is alive." – Heather Christle, author of The Crying Book "It is impossible not to question the world as we thought we knew it by the end of this book. Sina Queyras painstakingly aims their extraordinary nerve and talent at Virginia Woolf’s idea of a room of one’s own: 'It’s a mistake to consider the room without all of its entanglements.' Taking Woolf’s cue, Queyras explores writing that is not world-building but something far more generous and transformative; as Woolf wrote, 'Literature is open to everybody.'" – CAConrad, author of AMANDA PARADISE: Resurrect Extinct Vibration

Women, Writing, Woolf

This poem resembles urban sprawl. This poem resembles the freedom to charge a fee. The fee occurs in the gaps. It is an event. It is not without precedent. It is a moment in which you pay money. It is a tribute to freedom of choice. Reality is a parking lot in Qatar. Reality is an airstrip in Malawi. Meanwhile the expressway encloses, the expressway round and around the perimeters like wagon trains circling the bonfire, all of them, guns pointed, Busby Berkeley in the night sky. Expressway exposes the paradox of modern mobility: the more roads and connections we build, the more separate we feel. Sina Queyras has written a bravely lyrical critique of our ethical and ecological imprint, a legacy easily blamed on corporations and commerce, but one we've allowed, through our tacit acquiescence, to overwhelm us. Every brush stroke, every bolt, and nut, every form and curve in our networks of oil and rubber, every thought and its material outcome – each decision can make or unmake us.

"Sina Queyras is a poet to read and reckon with."—Lambda Literary Review MxT, or "Memory x Time," is one of the formulas acclaimed poet Sina Queyras posits as a way to measure grief. These poems mourn the dead by turning memories over and over in their hands, by invoking other poets, by appropriating science, by studying the history of elegy. Devastating, cheeky, allusive, hallucinatory: this is Queyras at her most powerful. All the gods know is destinations. I have raised A glass, my eye, your hook. Let's face it the world Is a shrinking place and hungry: too much grief To feed. I float away from you on hard Covers. I step out on the stacked hours. Words If they were soil how I would throw them back into the Compost pile and wait for spring. Those "this is how It is," speeches appear and later diamonds soft as bullets. I went to the library looking to scaffold my thoughts. Sure, now you say Lucretius. Intelligence is so often Hindsight. Outside Holly Golightly's townhouse There are taxis. The end of me, or you, is of no concern. Frederick Seidel anoints me with the head of his penis. It is soft as a chamois and spreads like egg across my scalp. Sina Queyras is the author of the Lambda Award–winning Lemon Hound, Expressway (shortlisted for the Governor General's Award), and the novel Autobiography of Childhood (shortlisted for the Amazon First Novel Award). She often writes for the Poetry Foundation and runs the online journal Lemon Hound (Lemonhound.com).

"Queyras' novel scores the jagged incisions of childhood. How her characters escape or embrace or succumb to the damage, she manages through an exquisite prose that cannot comfort them, nor ease us. Yes we cannot help but be held by the language."—Dionne Brand Five siblings, all haunted by the death of a brother in their youth. One winter day, when another of them will be taken by cancer. Guddy is struggling to fly across the continent in a snowstorm to see her sister while she still can. Jerry, avoiding the phone, hits the highway, driving as fast as he can away from his back pain and his son. Bjarne, just back from six years on the streets, is watching Judge Judy, trying to quiet the voices in his head. Annie is cleaning her mother's trailer and ducking her questions. And then there's Therese, trying to forgive them all before it's too late. As all five are forced to react—or to choose to not react—to the news of Therese's impending death, their actions weave a nuanced portrait of a family, of the devastating reach of childhood grief. What if thinking is all we have at the end of the day? This transcendent first novel from award-winning poet Sina Queyras tells the story of childhood by recreating the mind at work grappling with it: noticing, reaching, loving, and flailing. Sina Queyras' last collection of poetry, Expressway, was nominated for a Governor General's Award and won Gold at the National Magazine Awards. Her previous collection Lemon Hound won a Lambda Award and the Pat Lowther Award, and she is the winner of the 2012 Friends of Literature Award. She is a blogger for Harriet, the Poetry Foundation's blog.

Sina Queyras

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