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Set to Music a Wildfire
Winner of the 2016 Michael Waters Poetry Prize. In Lebanon during the civil war, a teenage boy and his family witness leveled cities, displaced civilians, the aftermath of massacres. Resources are scarce and uncertainty is everywhere. What does it mean to survive? To leave behind a home torn apart by war? To carry the burden of what you've seen across an ocean? These poems follow a man in search of security as he leaves his country for America, falls in love, and becomes a single father to three daughters. Through the perspective of one man, his family, and even his country, Set to Music a Wildfire explores the violence of living, the guilt of surviving, the loneliness of faith, and the impossible task of belonging.
- GenresPoetry
67 pages, Paperback
First published October 17, 2017
234 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews
February 13, 2018
Ruth Awad's debut collection presents a tryptich of identity--section 1 exploring the father's experience in the Lebanese civil war, section 2 engaging the familial history of childhood, and section 3 digging in to the legacy of all this. Awad's capacity to write with surprising language, to bring to a powerful image powerful language is great, and she brings to these poems passion and great skill.
January 4, 2018
If I could give this book more stars, I would. This collection about Awad's father's journey from his childhood during the Lebanese Civil War to his immigration to America, his marriage, and fatherhood is haunting. The poems in Awad's mother's voice are equally compelling. The language Awad uses in each poem is so deliberate, it feels as though she is weaving a intricate spell to capture the reader. Consider me caught. I can't recommend this collection enough. Seek it out.
April 8, 2018
At its best, Ruth Awad’s Set to Music a Wildfire further convinces me poetry, among many things, is a living testament to both art’s unique ability to arise—and our need for art to arise—from suffering and tragedy.
Read my full review at Tupelo Quarterly--http://www.tupeloquarterly.com/on-set...
Read my full review at Tupelo Quarterly--http://www.tupeloquarterly.com/on-set...
July 22, 2018
Ruth Awad's deep, wrenching discussion of the Lebanese Civil War is seen through the eyes of a narrator whose father grew up in the conflict--a father who often becomes the narrator himself. From the deadly hum of bombs to the sound of gunfire on an emptying street, the hush of a hand against fabric to the clink of glasses at a shared meal, Ruth Awad captures key elements of a haunted life. I highly recommend this collection.
September 7, 2018
I loved every damn poem in this collection. There were a handful that actually moved me to tears. Awad was able to take personal stories and histories from her family, and herself, and turn them into brief, all encompassing, prose. Highly highly recommend this collection. Especially if you are looking for an intimate, personal perspective on Lebanon during the violence in the 1970’s. Easy 5/5 from me! Can not wait to experience more fabulous poetry from Ruth in the future!
April 24, 2019
I really liked the cohesion and compassion of this collection of beautiful poems about Awad's family.
October 26, 2017
Set to Music a Wildfire
poems by Ruth Awad
SIR Press, 2017
~
“Will you die for an idea?” – Ruth Awad, from ~Let me be a lamb in a world that wants my lion~
When so much praise is reserved for the universal, for a thing that touches all things, here is Ruth Awad’s Set to Music a Wildfire- a work that feels pressed into the page. A work that picks up the pieces, not after, but during. A work that pauses in order to continue. A rewriting of the detail’s bible. I love this book for its spiritual reportage:
~There was the broken teapot and two women, their clothes
torn open, and an infant.~ (Sabra and Shatila Massacre / Refugee camps in Beirut, Lebanon, 1982)
For the way its observant foresight lets image stand:
~Tripoli rooftop.
…The sea lipped its insoluble gossip
to the shoreline.
The sky was a jar full of loose teeth.~ (Tracers)
The book is comprised of three sections: Born into War / House Made of Breath / What the Living Know. Veining through them is a man in a mask, a father, who wants face to leave with a name. Awad is there, it seems, to ghost each section with sigh and nail. From the ‘unbearably soft’ to an earth pinned by animal and animal’s passage, Awad cradles an imaginary fossil through the fog of idea and country.
~The map between us proof
I don’t know this world.~ (Interview with My Father: Maps)
Through interview and remembrance, Awad clays the voice of her father from a homegrown brevity and allows local, fleeting heavens their empty feast.
~Years ago when the power cut off,
your family hung in the elevator
like a half-swallowed bite~ (Elevator / Abou Samra, Lebanon)
~We are writing your anthem:
the cursive of blood~ (A Message from the Guardians of the Cedars)~
Death gets no audience here, but does get a performance. Here, history’s flower is a torch. Awad is no bystander, but as a poet who can achieve the trinity of being there for her subject, for herself, and for her reader, she joins rather than invades.
I write all over the pages of the books I’m reading. In Set To Music a Wildfire, I wrote very little, save for this small aside: it was touch / told hand / to over / pack. Awad knows the stasis leaving causes, and her book seems written in a language one is elsewhere understanding. It is an untouchable thing. A handprint’s bliss. A within where place speaks to place. Fly gets its wall, and ghost its tattoo. Awad’s voice carries so much, and manages beautifully the recalling of echo.
~
review by Barton Smock
~
book is here:
https://www.amazon.com/Set-Music-Wild...
poems by Ruth Awad
SIR Press, 2017
~
“Will you die for an idea?” – Ruth Awad, from ~Let me be a lamb in a world that wants my lion~
When so much praise is reserved for the universal, for a thing that touches all things, here is Ruth Awad’s Set to Music a Wildfire- a work that feels pressed into the page. A work that picks up the pieces, not after, but during. A work that pauses in order to continue. A rewriting of the detail’s bible. I love this book for its spiritual reportage:
~There was the broken teapot and two women, their clothes
torn open, and an infant.~ (Sabra and Shatila Massacre / Refugee camps in Beirut, Lebanon, 1982)
For the way its observant foresight lets image stand:
~Tripoli rooftop.
…The sea lipped its insoluble gossip
to the shoreline.
The sky was a jar full of loose teeth.~ (Tracers)
The book is comprised of three sections: Born into War / House Made of Breath / What the Living Know. Veining through them is a man in a mask, a father, who wants face to leave with a name. Awad is there, it seems, to ghost each section with sigh and nail. From the ‘unbearably soft’ to an earth pinned by animal and animal’s passage, Awad cradles an imaginary fossil through the fog of idea and country.
~The map between us proof
I don’t know this world.~ (Interview with My Father: Maps)
Through interview and remembrance, Awad clays the voice of her father from a homegrown brevity and allows local, fleeting heavens their empty feast.
~Years ago when the power cut off,
your family hung in the elevator
like a half-swallowed bite~ (Elevator / Abou Samra, Lebanon)
~We are writing your anthem:
the cursive of blood~ (A Message from the Guardians of the Cedars)~
Death gets no audience here, but does get a performance. Here, history’s flower is a torch. Awad is no bystander, but as a poet who can achieve the trinity of being there for her subject, for herself, and for her reader, she joins rather than invades.
I write all over the pages of the books I’m reading. In Set To Music a Wildfire, I wrote very little, save for this small aside: it was touch / told hand / to over / pack. Awad knows the stasis leaving causes, and her book seems written in a language one is elsewhere understanding. It is an untouchable thing. A handprint’s bliss. A within where place speaks to place. Fly gets its wall, and ghost its tattoo. Awad’s voice carries so much, and manages beautifully the recalling of echo.
~
review by Barton Smock
~
book is here:
https://www.amazon.com/Set-Music-Wild...
February 7, 2018
A wonderful collection of poems about war, life therein, and life after. One of this collection's greatest assets is its surprising range, and Awad's ability to gut you from every direction. At times novelistic in its execution, Awad follows her father through Lebanon's civil war all the way to America, where he marries and raises his daughters. Just as the reader begins to acclimate to the shock of war, the poems shift to America, and we are sideswiped by a different kind of brutality. Timing and range are not Awad's only gift; her powers of expression are bracing, shocking. The voice in Set to Music is remarkable; Awad is daring and poised--a tightrope walker utterly confident in every step. Take a later poem, "Headline in Reverse:"
"This is the work/ of hope: We hang the kicked doors. We rinse/ the blood from our streets. We feed the bone-picked/ starved because they are ours. We imagine the earth/ holds its dust like gold instead of chasing/ the boots that come and go."
Consistently powerful, Awad's collection is a moving work from a unique and necessary voice for today.
"This is the work/ of hope: We hang the kicked doors. We rinse/ the blood from our streets. We feed the bone-picked/ starved because they are ours. We imagine the earth/ holds its dust like gold instead of chasing/ the boots that come and go."
Consistently powerful, Awad's collection is a moving work from a unique and necessary voice for today.
October 28, 2017
An intricately-wrought debut that scours the depths of grief and loss while guided by the light of a speaker that is optimistic, hopeful, even in the darkest of times. Lush imagery comes up against horrors of war and struggles of family in Awad's collection, and the result is a vibrant, resonant group of poems that leave an indelible mark on the reader's memory.
December 28, 2017
This book deserves better words than anything that my snark or sincerity could or can ever provide and it would be a great disservice to such a wonderful collection of poems for me to even try and so I won't...So there.
April 25, 2018
The poems in "Set to Music a Wildfire" took my breath with their music and personal history. You can truly open to any page and discover a line that cuts you, or sets you on a voyage to reexamine the body that can carry so much passion and violence all at once.
June 17, 2023
Such a great write by Mz Ruth Awad with amazing poetry that explores themes of identity, culture, relationships, and loss. I loved the raw, emotional approach to the personal and political issues addressed in the poems. The poems showcase Mz Ruth unique blend of imagery, language to convey complex emotions and experiences of herself and her community
I found it a powerful exploration of identity and experience,from the perspective of a woman of color. The poems in the book offer an unflinching look at the challenges, struggles, and triumphs of navigating contemporary society as a woman, and specifically a woman of Lebanese heritage.
Throughout the book, Mz Ruth explores themes of gender, sexuality, violence, and personal empowerment in a way that connects with the struggles experienced by many women today. Her poetry serves as a voice for marginalized women, bringing to light the ways in which systems of oppression impact their lives and experiences. The book emphasizes the importance of self-love and resilience in the face of adversity, reflecting feminist ideals of personal empowerment and self-determination.
I found it a powerful exploration of identity and experience,from the perspective of a woman of color. The poems in the book offer an unflinching look at the challenges, struggles, and triumphs of navigating contemporary society as a woman, and specifically a woman of Lebanese heritage.
Throughout the book, Mz Ruth explores themes of gender, sexuality, violence, and personal empowerment in a way that connects with the struggles experienced by many women today. Her poetry serves as a voice for marginalized women, bringing to light the ways in which systems of oppression impact their lives and experiences. The book emphasizes the importance of self-love and resilience in the face of adversity, reflecting feminist ideals of personal empowerment and self-determination.
November 13, 2018
Ruth Awad's debut book of poetry spans generations and continents. She has an acute eye for historical detail and a precise ear for sound. These poems are musical, emotional, and rich in their portrayal of familial love and heartbreak. Themes of war, displacement, and immigration suffuse the entire collection, making this book resonant, important, and timely.
December 17, 2018
"I love this fleeting world even/ as I run through the streets, the heat slung on my back,/ shots mottling the window where I bought bread,// and the voices follow..." An urgent and deeply moving collection from Ruth Awad, both personal and political, easily expandable from Lebanon's plight to our personal dark histories.
July 3, 2019
Favorites:
Inventory of What Remains
My Father is the Sea, The Field, the Stone
Lebanese Famine in America
My Father Dreams of a New Country
The Bride of the South
Sabra and Shatila Massacre
Elevator
Hunt
Inventory of What Remains
My Father is the Sea, The Field, the Stone
Lebanese Famine in America
My Father Dreams of a New Country
The Bride of the South
Sabra and Shatila Massacre
Elevator
Hunt
September 5, 2018
Beautiful and emotional. I loved this.
February 6, 2020
I mostly read fiction because I didn't think poetry could really make you feel things. I must have been reading the wrong poetry.
October 3, 2023
'Why a rifle when my blood is a field?"
"I circle / you like rope circles an animal circles a tree"
"I circle / you like rope circles an animal circles a tree"
Displaying 1 - 18 of 18 reviews