I think what I like about this collection is that some of its poems make a world out of teenage girldom. We can forget so fast what the world is when we were that age, and later in our lives poems about all the feelings and magnified sorrows and devastation over such seemingly minor events can seem a little petty, but to tell the truth, they aren't. They're right for that time in your life, and people who aren't forced to deal with adult woes before their time experience them like this--pieces of beauty, love, realizations, revelations that are framed as if they're the deepest thoughts in the world--and you can remember a little bit how small your world was and how big it felt. Maybe you can even look at your own life and realize it's probably smaller than you know too.
And then there are the poems that ARE about big things--about disease, about culture and being both a participant in it and a victim of it, about self-destruction, about losing someone you love--and those manage to connect to a larger picture to put it in perspective for everyone who has or hasn't been there.
I don't personally relate to really anything in the poems, though--I didn't have much experience with the kinds of disasters she describes, and I wasn't the same kind of girl. I didn't lose anyone important to me in my youth and I didn't hurt myself or have self-hating thoughts or experience significant disease. Boys judging my appearance did nothing to me, I didn't crave their attention, I didn't admire the movie stars, I wasn't lonely, I didn't have sex or make out with people to feel glamorous or cared for. I had absolutely no interest in being like a movie star and paid little to no attention to whether I was fashionable or pretty (and to be honest, Ms. Block's preoccupation with that last in just about everything she writes gets on my nerves). As usual, lush descriptions of things people are wearing or what their physical appearance is like takes up a lot of real estate in this book. To be perfectly honest, the fixation on clothing details and makeup and whatnot--while it does paint a pretty specific picture if that's what you're into--doesn't do much for me when trying to imagine what I'd actually look for in a photograph. I wouldn't remember what someone was wearing, but I'd remember the look on their face, or how they had their hands poised, or what I thought they wanted to do next based on the presentation. I feel like so many of these images are posed for me and I'm told "look!" but when that's all that's there in so many of the images, I have no emotional attachment to them.
But I can see some things to relate to anyway. I especially liked one line where the speaker discusses being part of her boyfriend's "collage," serving a certain purpose that she no longer served once they had sex, and she realizes he was part of HER collage too. I found that to be an empowering thought. I also liked one where the speaker discussed actresses as icons and then as the women she'd realized they were. (I didn't like that they were about specific actresses that you could recognize, though--it was just sort of weird to me.) And I thought one poem was very sweet where the author expressed dissatisfaction with her physical appearance and all the changes she'd made to make it better, until she felt like she'd become someone else, and then a teenage girl wrote her to say she didn't feel pretty and the author was able to take her own advice and "slept peacefully in [her] own arms."
This may just be because I'm not much of a poetry scholar, but I tend not to like Ms. Block's poetry form. It feels sort of uneven, unstructured, and a little rambly most of the time, like it's just spilling thoughts everywhere and once in a while ends a line in the middle or puts a word on its own line for Emphasis. I think I'd like to see an occasional poem with more structure or something that is more than just an expression of an important or powerful idea. Ms. Block's prose is generally a little flowery. This poetry book just kind of feels like it's her usual writing topics but with the same ideas arranged into lines instead of expressing part of a larger narrative. I noticed one piece in each of the three sections was an unpunctuated, undivided ramble and I thought that was an interesting thing to do, but it didn't seem to have any particular significance--it was just there.
I was glad to see there were a few poems in there from an older woman's perspective that seemed to recognize things are more important than beauty and that beauty can be dangerous if you want it in a way that can kill you. It doesn't seem like the author has too many moments where she talks like this, but I appreciate them even as I appreciate that she can admit her insecurities and her fixations. I like when she writes about her children and about the bigger picture beyond L.A., pretty clothes, and physical beauty. Some of those observations remind me why I've written the poetry I have.