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For Love of an Armadillo
'How Didi Menendez got Francis Bacon and Woody Allen into a book about a quasi-celestial being strangely called by Armadillo is this: Didi Menendez is a fearless writer, no more shy for the surrealist imagery of a shelled creature lodging in a woman's chest, than for the calm and simpler ruminations, such as knitting or what sitcoms to watch on TV. Matched with equally beautifully shapeshifting imagery by Jeremy Baum, 'For the Love of Armadillo' is a book that calms me in knowing it exists.'
- Blake Butler
- Blake Butler
- GenresPoetry
36 pages, paperback
First published January 1, 2009
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
January 2, 2009
This is a form of love poetry, but a mythic form, like Cocteau's
Beauty and the Beast
, a fable, and a beautiful one.
As in Cocteau, love's ideals and wishes are frustrated by the physical world. So the poet carries an armadillo in her breast, a creature of hard armor, although (as love always is) he's a shape shifter.
There's subtlety in the way this central metaphor is handled and Menendez does not structure the book around pathos but hope, and uses much humor in crafting these poems. The book ends up being about the survival of love. The poems speak to the child in the adult and the adult in the child. You'll smile a lot while reading these sly lines, and like a Grimm's fairy tale the images will work on you at a primordial level below conscious language....
"Sometimes I make Armadillo dinner.
His favorite is shellfish although
I must be very careful never to serve
him snails al ajillo because snails
remind him of his first love."
Charming lines like these are complemented perfectly by Jeremy Baum's stellar, odd art. His armadillos have the bluest eyes you will ever see but will stare you down as seriously as any Rembrandt self-portrait. These are not cutesy illustrations. Baum manages to match the tenor of Menendez's poetry, and both his humans and armadillos are survivalists with clear stares.
The poetry of For the Love of an Armadillo meditates on incarnation (one of existence's greatest mysteries really) most, and the voice which carries the poem forward feels it has somehow botched its incarnation, but remains optimistic. The closing poem in the collection looks beyond the horizon of its current incarnation, hints at a spiritual metamorphosis and future incarnation.
It at this point that the extended poem of the book itself seem to be equivocating. One can't be sure if the poem truly has faith in this glorious image, this leap to a next incarnation, or whether it is keeping its faith with us by observing the niceties of optimism, the social graces. That teetering is what gives the poem its negative capability, and leaves the reader with the unanswered questions that every great fable or fairy tale leaves in a child, even if that child now has gray hair, walks much more slowly and has wandered very far from the room where he or she first realized some forests will never be entirely known.
As in Cocteau, love's ideals and wishes are frustrated by the physical world. So the poet carries an armadillo in her breast, a creature of hard armor, although (as love always is) he's a shape shifter.
There's subtlety in the way this central metaphor is handled and Menendez does not structure the book around pathos but hope, and uses much humor in crafting these poems. The book ends up being about the survival of love. The poems speak to the child in the adult and the adult in the child. You'll smile a lot while reading these sly lines, and like a Grimm's fairy tale the images will work on you at a primordial level below conscious language....
"Sometimes I make Armadillo dinner.
His favorite is shellfish although
I must be very careful never to serve
him snails al ajillo because snails
remind him of his first love."
Charming lines like these are complemented perfectly by Jeremy Baum's stellar, odd art. His armadillos have the bluest eyes you will ever see but will stare you down as seriously as any Rembrandt self-portrait. These are not cutesy illustrations. Baum manages to match the tenor of Menendez's poetry, and both his humans and armadillos are survivalists with clear stares.
The poetry of For the Love of an Armadillo meditates on incarnation (one of existence's greatest mysteries really) most, and the voice which carries the poem forward feels it has somehow botched its incarnation, but remains optimistic. The closing poem in the collection looks beyond the horizon of its current incarnation, hints at a spiritual metamorphosis and future incarnation.
It at this point that the extended poem of the book itself seem to be equivocating. One can't be sure if the poem truly has faith in this glorious image, this leap to a next incarnation, or whether it is keeping its faith with us by observing the niceties of optimism, the social graces. That teetering is what gives the poem its negative capability, and leaves the reader with the unanswered questions that every great fable or fairy tale leaves in a child, even if that child now has gray hair, walks much more slowly and has wandered very far from the room where he or she first realized some forests will never be entirely known.
January 5, 2009
For the Love of an Armadillo
Review by Missy McEwen
In the pages of For the Love of an Armadillo by Didi Menendez (illustrated by Jeremy Baum), a delicate love affair (between The Armadillo and the narrator) takes shape. It is a love affair that is complicated and simple at the same time -- simple because they enjoy each other's company and are there for each other; there is no arguing, just dancing and watching television together, eating together, and sometimes kissing, but complicated because, for the narrator, there is conflict. The narrator is afraid she might be falling in love with The Armadillo. In the first poem of For the Love of an Armadillo "Armadillo," the poet writes:
"I am not sure how
the armadillo found
his way into my life…
I tell myself
not to feel
for the armadillo.
No respectable
woman my age
should feel for
an armadillo."
The illustration that comes before "Armadillo" is of a woman with an armadillo in her chest, next to her heart. The book carries on in this fashion -- the artwork (illustrated by Jeremy Baum) that precedes the poem complements the poem, so the reader gets a visual picture, as well as a poetic picture, of the developing relationship between the narrator and The Armadillo. In some of the illustrations featuring The Armadillo, the reader sees his 'stache, his stare, the smoke coming from his cigarette. It is not hard to believe why the narrator may be feeling for and falling for The Armadillo. She even gave him the nickname "Armadillo." But even though she knows him well enough to give him a pet name, she does not know him well enough to know his real name. In the poem "Armadillo and Andalucia," the poet writes:
"His real name may be Harry or Richard or Tom.
I don't know because he never offered to tell me.
I never asked.
I never ask Armadillo anything.
He never asks me anything either
except for the occasional what's for dinner?"
She does not know his real name, still she cooks him dinner as though she wants to be something more to him. She does for him as a mother would. In "Armadillo's Shoes," she tells him to shine his shoes. She gives him the polish and she spits on the shoes for him. She even wants to "knit him a sweater," but by the end of the poem, she wants to be more than a mother figure, she wants to be a lover; she wants The Armadillo to kiss her. The poem ends with these words:
"…kiss me Armadillo.
I want you to kiss me…hard."
And the poem that follows begins with the words "Armadillo only kisses me/when there is a full moon/or when it rains." This poem "Armadillo's Kisses" comes after the illustration titled "Conquest," and because of this sequence, I get the impression that the narrator has made her move, has given up trying to fight her feelings for The Armadillo, and The Armadillo has somewhat surrendered. But still she is taking it slow, maybe, not wanting to scare off The Armadillo by rushing things. She knows "never to serve/him snails al ajillo because snails/remind him of his first love." She takes what is given and does not ask for more. He kisses her, but only when it rains, only when there is a full moon. There is a limit to his love. Maybe during these times (of rain and full moons) he becomes sentimental and kissing is the only thing that will do.
In Didi Menendez' For the Love of an Armadillo, there are moments of tenderness, moments of longing, moments of passion, and moments of friendship. For the Love of an Armadillo is a classic story of a love affair told through poetry and pictures. It is a great read.
Review by Missy McEwen
In the pages of For the Love of an Armadillo by Didi Menendez (illustrated by Jeremy Baum), a delicate love affair (between The Armadillo and the narrator) takes shape. It is a love affair that is complicated and simple at the same time -- simple because they enjoy each other's company and are there for each other; there is no arguing, just dancing and watching television together, eating together, and sometimes kissing, but complicated because, for the narrator, there is conflict. The narrator is afraid she might be falling in love with The Armadillo. In the first poem of For the Love of an Armadillo "Armadillo," the poet writes:
"I am not sure how
the armadillo found
his way into my life…
I tell myself
not to feel
for the armadillo.
No respectable
woman my age
should feel for
an armadillo."
The illustration that comes before "Armadillo" is of a woman with an armadillo in her chest, next to her heart. The book carries on in this fashion -- the artwork (illustrated by Jeremy Baum) that precedes the poem complements the poem, so the reader gets a visual picture, as well as a poetic picture, of the developing relationship between the narrator and The Armadillo. In some of the illustrations featuring The Armadillo, the reader sees his 'stache, his stare, the smoke coming from his cigarette. It is not hard to believe why the narrator may be feeling for and falling for The Armadillo. She even gave him the nickname "Armadillo." But even though she knows him well enough to give him a pet name, she does not know him well enough to know his real name. In the poem "Armadillo and Andalucia," the poet writes:
"His real name may be Harry or Richard or Tom.
I don't know because he never offered to tell me.
I never asked.
I never ask Armadillo anything.
He never asks me anything either
except for the occasional what's for dinner?"
She does not know his real name, still she cooks him dinner as though she wants to be something more to him. She does for him as a mother would. In "Armadillo's Shoes," she tells him to shine his shoes. She gives him the polish and she spits on the shoes for him. She even wants to "knit him a sweater," but by the end of the poem, she wants to be more than a mother figure, she wants to be a lover; she wants The Armadillo to kiss her. The poem ends with these words:
"…kiss me Armadillo.
I want you to kiss me…hard."
And the poem that follows begins with the words "Armadillo only kisses me/when there is a full moon/or when it rains." This poem "Armadillo's Kisses" comes after the illustration titled "Conquest," and because of this sequence, I get the impression that the narrator has made her move, has given up trying to fight her feelings for The Armadillo, and The Armadillo has somewhat surrendered. But still she is taking it slow, maybe, not wanting to scare off The Armadillo by rushing things. She knows "never to serve/him snails al ajillo because snails/remind him of his first love." She takes what is given and does not ask for more. He kisses her, but only when it rains, only when there is a full moon. There is a limit to his love. Maybe during these times (of rain and full moons) he becomes sentimental and kissing is the only thing that will do.
In Didi Menendez' For the Love of an Armadillo, there are moments of tenderness, moments of longing, moments of passion, and moments of friendship. For the Love of an Armadillo is a classic story of a love affair told through poetry and pictures. It is a great read.
January 4, 2009
The Armadillo as Lover...or Alter Ego
Didi Menendez wears many hats in the art world - painter, publisher, editor, writer, champion of the arts in general, and poet. And as is typical of her style she shares this collection of highly entertaining and touching and amusing poems FOR LOVE OF AN ARMADILLO with her illustrator, the very fine Jeremy Baum. In this small but highly sophisticated book Menendez proves her well-established mettle as one of our more imaginative poets with a series of poems in which her 'love affair' with an armadillo spills out over the colorful pages like sharing secreted passions and private quasi-distorted views of the world with an unnamed friend: that friend turns out to be us, the reader.
Menendez places her main character, an armadillo, in an anthropomorphic form while never for a second ignoring the armor and the claws this hero/lover brandishes. In 'Armadillo's Shoes' she dances with her companion in a tender love story. She describes the armadillo's burrowing into her chest and heart in a way that suspends all disbelief that our narrator is seriously infatuated. And in 'Armadillo's Armor' she mixes art history with philosophical outlooks in a manner that truly sings:
'...Once death was staring back at me,
I pulled a cobra from my mouth.
It slithered by my frost bitten toes.
My uterus gave birth to clots of baby parts.
My colon expelled Francis Bacon.
Garcia-Lorca stood in front of a firing squad.
I coughed up a frozen lake.
Che pointed a rifle to my left temple.
I pulled the nails from my bloody fingers.
George Harrison handed me his guitar.
Cole Porter sang Begin the Beguine.
Hedda Hopper jotted it all down.
Armadillo stood from the foot of the bed
and looked at the vast eternity above him.
Armadillo then looked below to the same eternity.
This was when he shed the armor and left
and this was when I found myself crying
at the top of my lungs as a woman held a breast to
my mouth and I, defenseless, suckled on to dear life.'
Life for Didi Menendez appears to be a circus menagerie and finding her place - and ours - in this puzzle makes her one of our most interesting poets. Grady Harp
Didi Menendez wears many hats in the art world - painter, publisher, editor, writer, champion of the arts in general, and poet. And as is typical of her style she shares this collection of highly entertaining and touching and amusing poems FOR LOVE OF AN ARMADILLO with her illustrator, the very fine Jeremy Baum. In this small but highly sophisticated book Menendez proves her well-established mettle as one of our more imaginative poets with a series of poems in which her 'love affair' with an armadillo spills out over the colorful pages like sharing secreted passions and private quasi-distorted views of the world with an unnamed friend: that friend turns out to be us, the reader.
Menendez places her main character, an armadillo, in an anthropomorphic form while never for a second ignoring the armor and the claws this hero/lover brandishes. In 'Armadillo's Shoes' she dances with her companion in a tender love story. She describes the armadillo's burrowing into her chest and heart in a way that suspends all disbelief that our narrator is seriously infatuated. And in 'Armadillo's Armor' she mixes art history with philosophical outlooks in a manner that truly sings:
'...Once death was staring back at me,
I pulled a cobra from my mouth.
It slithered by my frost bitten toes.
My uterus gave birth to clots of baby parts.
My colon expelled Francis Bacon.
Garcia-Lorca stood in front of a firing squad.
I coughed up a frozen lake.
Che pointed a rifle to my left temple.
I pulled the nails from my bloody fingers.
George Harrison handed me his guitar.
Cole Porter sang Begin the Beguine.
Hedda Hopper jotted it all down.
Armadillo stood from the foot of the bed
and looked at the vast eternity above him.
Armadillo then looked below to the same eternity.
This was when he shed the armor and left
and this was when I found myself crying
at the top of my lungs as a woman held a breast to
my mouth and I, defenseless, suckled on to dear life.'
Life for Didi Menendez appears to be a circus menagerie and finding her place - and ours - in this puzzle makes her one of our most interesting poets. Grady Harp
January 2, 2009
Dammit, why aren't there more books of poetry like this out there? If there was one book of poetry I read all year, last year and this year combined, that surpassed anything else, it had to have been For Love of an Armadillo. I realize this may come off as an exaggeration, and yes, sometimes I exaggerate, and sometime I am overly critical, but this is the book of poems to have and to read. It was wonderfully imaginative, captive and one hell of a ride. For such a short book, I couldn't believe the range of emotions and every one of them was raw, honest and real. I'll never get the image of an armadillo out of my head. I have a new hero, I love Didi Menendez's Armadillo!
January 3, 2009
This book reads like a diary written from a magic land, one filled with handsome conquistadores, passionate women and forests bearing smoke and floating eyes. Didi Menendez evokes a sly, surreal touch with her meditations on past and imagined loves, and Jeremy Baum's drawings perfectly echo the whimsy and lament found in her poems. Baum's images are richly lined and colored, and filled with the kind of expressive, memorable faces and night-time landscapes found in fairytales for adults. What a lovely and original book...
January 2, 2009
An amazing image conflation of the conquistador and the armadillo: "Armadillo's name is not really Armadillo. / I call him Armadillo because of the / conquistador armor."
Some stand-outs: "Armadillo and the Hollywood Starlets" and "Armadillo's Armor" where the device of anaphora, which is used deftly in many of the poems, crescendos.
Oh, and there are these lines, which I've been repeating in my head all day:
"We always watch reruns.
This is what we understand best."
Some stand-outs: "Armadillo and the Hollywood Starlets" and "Armadillo's Armor" where the device of anaphora, which is used deftly in many of the poems, crescendos.
Oh, and there are these lines, which I've been repeating in my head all day:
"We always watch reruns.
This is what we understand best."
January 3, 2009
This book has two of my favorite things:
1. "re-readability"
2. artwork
I'm on my second reading already-- not because I didn't understand it, but because I really did enjoy this book. This woman can write! Next, on the third go-round, I'll read these poems outloud and pretend I am the gifted writer who came up with these poems!
I'm inspired!
1. "re-readability"
2. artwork
I'm on my second reading already-- not because I didn't understand it, but because I really did enjoy this book. This woman can write! Next, on the third go-round, I'll read these poems outloud and pretend I am the gifted writer who came up with these poems!
I'm inspired!
January 2, 2009
I love this book! Thoroughly beautiful, like a wondrous fairytale. The effect of the artwork teamed with the poems is dynamite! A really "Goodread."
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews