Confessions of a Self-Loathing Narcissist: A Solipsistic Self-Portrait

by Priscilla McGreer

Poet Priscilla McGreer’s Confessions of a Self-Loathing Narcissist presents an exploration of self-hood through the cosmic lens of astrology. Each poem in this series is inspired by and named after one of the twelve houses of the zodiac, considering universal themes such as love, life, sex, death, childhood, and friendship that become profoundly personal within the verses. The brooding yet exultant musings of this poetry collection aptly takes its name from the Greek myth of the tragically self-obsessed Narcissus. Confessions of a Self-Loathing Narcissist is an inquest into the sometimes dreadful awakening that can only be ever so painfully gained through self-knowledge. The introspective honesty of the poetry in this collection opens a path to triumphant release from the enthrallment with misery and self-limitation that plagues our self-centred culture.

52 pages, Paperback

First published November 14, 2013

Reviews

[Tynesha · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poetry is not really my thing, so I found it hard to understand what I was reading, but I did enjoy it. I'd you like poetry, you'll probably enjoy this.

[Katie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Confessions of a Self Loathing Narcissist is a collection of poetry that I found too short. I usually think that poetry collections are too long and need to be better edited but this collection by Priscilla McGreer I wanted more of. It is a beautifully presented work, which gives the reader wonderful imagery and for me, as a fellow poet, inspiration too.
Despite there being some missteps with wording, perhaps going overboard with winding sentences into tangled circles, the effect of these poems is enlightening and I think lead the reader on a journey. I’m not sure how personal these are to the writer but they engaged me. The theme of the poems are dark, covering ‘I belong to a generation of scorpions hiding in sands that
were once a great city’ ‘I like the dark because I am in pain
and it closes around me like fresh armour on a wounded
soldier’ and ‘my mind wanders
and sometimes returns to me bloodied, beaten and
bruised
there are places, for instance, where the pen is a penis
and they are unkind to the feminine imagination’

Modern, yet still harks back to the poetry of old, and adds something new to the genre. I love this book, I think you may do too.