First edition. Jamaican-American author. Blurbs by Audrey Lorde, Tillie Olsen, Alice Walker, Adrienne Rich. White wrappers have several small stains. vi , 64, 2 pages. stiff paper wrappers.. 12mo..
Michelle Cliff (born 2 November 1946) is a Jamaican-American author whose notable works include No Telephone to Heaven, Abeng and Free Enterprise.
Cliff also has written short stories, prose poems and works of literary criticism. Her works explore the various, complex identity problems that stem from post-colonialism, as well as the difficulty of establishing an authentic, individual identity despite race and gender constructs. Cliff is a lesbian who grew up in Jamaica.
Cliff was born in Kingston, Jamaica, in 1946 and moved with her family to New York City three years later. She was educated at Wagner College and the Warburg Institute at the University of London. She has held academic positions at several colleges including Trinity College and Emory University.
Cliff was a contributor to the Black feminist anthology Home Girls.
As of 1999, Cliff was living in Santa Cruz, California, with her partner, poet Adrienne Rich. The two were partners from 1976; Rich died in 2012.
3 1/2 Stars. I found it difficult to stay completely invested in the poems in this collection. Portions of many of the poems felt inaccessible and unnecessarily drawn-out. That being said, I appreciated the themes of this collection and Cliff's ability to seamlessly weave multiple stories together.
Sometimes you've just got to cultivate your own damn garden.
Cliff's classic work of....poetry? Prose poetry? Short essay? This category-defying work, praised by Black literary luminaries from Alice Walker to Audre Lorde, explores colorism, Jamaica (as an island and a heritage), the immigrant experience, strained relationships with female relatives, and being childless by choice, among other things. The passages are short -- hell, the book is short, clocking in at only 64 pages -- but packed with imagery and insight, so that you'll want to linger over them. There's a lot of Black body horror / pain / trauma here, so TWs and CWs for everything under the sun, but most especially infertility, childbirth, and pregnancy loss.
The passages that resonated with me most were the gardening passages, in which her labor is both what it is -- work done to enrich and nourish herself -- but also a great metaphor for colonialism, setting healthy boundaries, defending against the patriarchy, and a palimpsest of other applications. Read in the context of the rest of the book, it's a core metaphor for what Cliff is doing: reclaiming her own body and identity from the swarm of forces that want to co-opt it.
I read this book for the #readingwomenchallenge, #1: a book by an author from the Caribbean or India. It's out of print, so if you didn't get it back in the day, you're SOL now. If you have it, hang on to it. Rebind it if you have to. It should be ratty, well-loved, and a key part of your Black literature collection in large urban public libraries.