Reviewed by Shannon Vare Christine
The Under Hum
by Simone Muench & Jackie K. White
Black Lawrence Press
ISBN: 978-1-62557-070-3, May 2024, Paperback, 70 pages
There are myriad ways and media through which an artist or writer can choose to convey their self-portrait. Some of these methods of creative expression may be of the more traditional variety, while experimental versions are being invented even into the present day. While the concept of creating an image of oneself is not a modern one, the ways in which artists and writers choose to capture their talents, interests, and narratives leaves plentiful room for exploration. Simone Muench & Jackie K. White’s choice to co-write The Under Hum, which captures the self portraits of these two poets, is one such experiment in collaboration. The fact that their poems are “lined” by famous writers is not only unique, but also spotlights the “under hum” of their joint efforts. Their poems are connected to the words of other writers across various time periods and settings, resulting in a wholly original final product.
The poems found within this volume are seamlessly assembled, so much so that the reader cannot detect where Muench and White’s writing both begins and ends. Their style is intermeshed one unto the other, as well as with the inclusion of other writers’ borrowed lines. The outside writers’ lines are italicized for attribution sake, but their syntax and style mirror Muench and White’s dual voices. The original authors’ lines are entry points for the speaker to engage the reader and opportunities to reimagine the original authors’ words and intentions. Many readers will also come to find even deeper meanings if upon a second (or even third or fourth) reading, they choose to go back to read excerpts or the context of the original works. These hidden and embedded revelations serve to highlight women’s complicated history of finding a means of self expression that will not only be respected but also heard. The speaker reflects on “this body’s bruised cartography, its / broken tongue, toward the tender hum” which prompts the reader to consider the utterances that often precede clear expression. When one has been degraded and undervalued, it is often difficult to relearn means and methods of expressivity, let alone to become fluent in this skill. Upon a first reading, the imagery above may seem brutal and harsh, but subsequent readings of “Self Portrait Lined By Alejandra Pizarnik,” reveal layered complexities. The reader can uncover the speaker’s perseverance in navigating through yearning and emptiness and relate these to their own life circumstances, whether in terms of marriage, motherhood, or something else entirely. There are brutal truths outlined here, but there is a persistence, a clawing, a demand to be seen. Additionally, this poem parallels the description Patricio Ferrari used to describe Pizarnik’s writing as focused on “the limitation of language, silence, the body, night, the nature of intimacy, madness, [and] death.” So too Muench and White are linking themselves with the universal themes explored by Pizarnik, yet with a fresh perspective all their own.
This mirrored effect throughout The Under Hum continues on as one delves into the poems that appear on facing pages. These pairs can certainly be read solo, but a far greater effect is achieved in reading them as counterparts to each other. “Against Teleology” takes the myth of Eve and strikes down the subjugation of women who’ve “seeded and ceded enough.” The speaker implores “Let’s mouth a modern story / revise every exodus, each line of dread / they put upon us.” Women’s lineage from Eve into the present has been fraught with injustice and oppression, both physical and ideological, but it is high time for women to embody their truest selves: “Full of sharp. Full of sheen.” The poem facing this one “From a Grimoire” is a fitting complement and also a realization of the ideas laid out in “Against Teleology.” This speaker uses the collective pronouns and a slower pace which indicates a confidence that is harnessed as a result of women banding together in power. There is a screech owl harmonizing with a scratched needle on a phonograph, “its croon gone crone, gone / cored. An Adam’s apple of curses…” The women captured in these lines are taking up the fight, demanding freedom from the patriarchal myths that force women into narrow roles. “Our mouths / ripen with wine, night animals, flowers, / as we slip off the human and prowl.” These women are fashioning who they want to be rather than who they are expected to become because “No traveler is a narrative unto herself.”
While the creation myth and others are rewritten and reclaimed in this book, so too are poetic forms and diction. Muench and White use traditional poetic elements as in centos, lines, stanzas, and “after” epigraphs, but also the newer form, the golden shovel, as well as a double-voiced golden shovel. Their multitude of references to language and lexicons, while firmly declaring, “our tongues will not be bridled” show a full spectrum of the power inherent in words. At times language or our comprehension can fall short: “Its chimera scratches / …wanting to cut off our hands / from touch, from keyboard or brush, from writing / that one word no earthly dictionary can translate.” Threats to freedom of expression abound, but neither Muench nor White, or even their speakers will be silenced or controlled. Another example of a modernized ancient form is that of the abecedarian in the poem, “Abecedarian For the Walking Woman.” This acrostic verse takes the conventional form and uses it to point out the rules that women must follow in the world, in order to keep themselves safe “not without looking over your shoulder.” Even the word hum itself can have a myriad of connotations and a varied etymology tying the word back to its Latin meaning “ground.” Most often, hum refers to a continuous, ever present, noise or activity, much like the process of unearthing ourselves from ancient myth, sifting its silt to find what truth remains.
About the reviewer: Shannon Vare Christine lives and teaches in Bucks County, PA. Her poems have been featured in various anthologies and publications. She served on the Editorial Board for The Community of Writers publication, Written from Here Anthology. Her poem, “Somnus Consented,” was published in Volume VIII of The Closed Eye Open Journal. Look for “How to Repot a (Rootbound) Plant,” forthcoming in The Wild Roof Journal. Follow her adventures and give her Poetic Pause newsletter a read at:www.shannonvarechristine.com and on Instagram @smvarewrites.