milk and honey by rupi kaur

Rating: 3 Stars

Kaur’s collection of free verse proved to be a pleasant surprise. I had picked it up without any great expectations (which is, I suppose, the only way to objectively read a book); and, found myself frequently moved by the experiences disclosed, and appreciative of the language used in their expression. Like the poet e e cummings, Kaur, a Canadian poet, also prefers to write exclusively in the lower case, and mostly unhampered by the pesky minutiae of punctuation. Like some other poets before her, the poetry is illustrated by her sketches. The overall effect is intimate, and highly revelatory. We do not know if the poet is speaking of her own life, or the Narrator is a fictitious alter ego. However that may be, what unfolds is a story told in four parts.

the hurting tells the tale of a girl trying to recover from a childhood of sexual abuse, while pressured to keep silent about what has happened to her, and struggling to find a way to express herself.

“our knees

pried open

by cousins

and uncles

and men

our bodies touched

by all the wrong people

that even in a bed full of safety

we are afraid”

“you tell me to quiet down cause

my opinions make me less beautiful

but i was not made with a fire in my belly

so i could be put out”

There’s a rawness to these lines, as if the wounds are still bleeding. This first part of the book is the one that I found to have the most immediacy and potency.

the loving speaks initially of romantic yearning, a girlishly idealized vision of how love should look like. This segues later into sexual awakening and hunger. There were some lines here that seemed truly lovely, like this –

i’d be lying if i said

you make me speechless

the truth is you make my

tongue so weak it forgets

what language to speak in

What follows next is the breaking. The relationship has dissolved. The Narrator wallows in anger and hurt. There is the jilted lover’s fond delusion that she’s irreplaceable, that the mark she has left is indelible. She has, she realizes, strewn her pearls before swine.

it must hurt to know

I am your most

beautiful

regret

Seriously, folks, this is the kind of poem that should remain in one’s diary. That’s why diaries were invented – so that you can scribble down all the egocentric inanity that you should be rightly embarrassed to say out loud.

the healing chronicles her journey to acceptance and growing self-awareness. You could conjecture that by this time she has consumed in equal volume several pints of ice-cream and many self-help books; and perhaps a spirituality course or two along the way. After all, those are all good things to do when you’re hurting (perhaps, go easy on the ice-cream though). You get the feeling that she has given herself a LOT of pep talks.

And it has the desired effect. The Narrator’s confidence returns, stronger than before. She accepts her womanhood; finds solidarity in sisterhood; takes pride in cultural identity; and, resolves to dedicate herself to her craft and to service.

of course i want to be successful

but i don’t crave success for me

i need to be successful to gain

enough milk and honey

to help those around

me succeed

Well, I don’t know about you, but I think our Narrator has made quite a breakthrough. I’m proud of her; she has come a long way. Considering her youth and burgeoning talent, no doubt the Poet will go even farther.