Leaving Saturn, chosen by Al Young as the winner of the Cave Canem Poetry Prize, is an ambitious and honest collection. Major Jackson, through both formal and free verse poems, renders visible the spirit of resilience, courage, and creativity he witnessed among his family, neighbors, and friends while growing up in Philadelphia. His poems hauntingly reflect urban decay and violence, yet at the same time they rejoice in the sustaining power of music and the potency of community. Jackson also honors artists who have served as models of resistance and maintained their own faith in the belief of the imagination to alter lives. The title poem, a dramatic monologue in the voice of the American jazz composer and bandleader Sun Ra, details such a humane program and serves as an admirable tribute to the tradition of African American art. Throughout, Jackson unflinchingly portrays our most devastated landscapes, yet with a vividness and compassion that expose the depth of his imaginative powers.
Major Jackson is an American poet and professor. He is the author of four collections of poetry: Roll Deep (2015), Holding Company (2010), Hoops (2006), finalist for an NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Literature-Poetry, and Leaving Saturn (2002), winner of the 2000 Cave Canem Poetry Prize and finalist for a National Book Critics Award Circle.
His poems have been published in literary journals and magazines including The New Yorker, The American Poetry Review, Callaloo, Poetry, and Tin House. His poetry has received critical attention in The Boston Globe, Christian Science Monitor, Parnassus, Philadelphia Inquirer, and on National Public Radio's All Things Considered. His work has been included in anthologies such as The Best American Poetry 2004, The Pushcart Prize XXIX: Best of the Small Presses, Schwerkraft, From the Fishouse, and The Word Exchange: Anglo-Saxon Poems in Translation. In 2013 he edited Countee Cullen: Collected Poems. [wikipedia]
What an excellent first collection by a poet that has harnessed the voice of a generation of black men fighting to escape the urban blight that clings to them, all the while retaining those parts of the culture that have formed their better parts. Leaving Saturn is no easy feat; the escape velocity necessary to leave the gravity of the planet requires an amount of energy that boggles the mind. Escaping the clutches of inner-city Philadelphia as a poor African-American male requires a similar effort.
Jackson's poems are his own history; the voices of his friends, family and denizens of his Philly 'hood have the timber of language unstuck from time.
the wind, the stars, oceans Inhabiting a space reserved for ancestors. Locked in a rhythm of motion,
Catching up with time, running alongside Our forefathers.
Major Jackson writes with a flavor to colors, a technique that makes his poetry vibrant - a vibrancy that comes from doing battle with the very place that you love, a home that gives you the strength to be able to one day escape it. The beautiful planet that wounds you as it makes you who you will become.
I'm giving this a 4/5. And not because I liked it, but because I actually understood some of it! Poetry has never really been my forte because to me it's just a whole lot of jumbled up words that only the smart people understand and when they come together to read it, they become even more pretentious and unbearable (You know the type... And if you are the type... Stop it!). For some reason, though, this guy's work kind of breaks that mold, you know? In spite of the fact that much of it was still completely lost on me, there was an aspect of it that was almost down to earth, relatable (Human speak that let everyone in!). I will say, I might be a little biased here. When I met the guy, he seemed to take a liking to me. Then again, I was being pervy. Guys seem to like that kind of thing.
I'm not big into poetry generally, but I love Major's style in this book (and others). I can feel the jazz reverberate in some of them, or the hip-hop sometimes, too. Having lived in Philly (not the part he grew up in), I know enough about the environs to picture it myself as I read, and appreciate the insight into that world that I never had as an outsider living in Philadelphia. The Sun-Ra section was a little out of my league, but the rest resonates beautifully with me.
Some strong work from this Philly-based poet, but some of the poems seem a little too happy about being hipster. I really enjoyed reading the collection, but it's not one I turn to time and again.