"Do away with the watery gray eyes, the impolite razor-sharp fins, the succulent heart, tender roe, delicate sweet bones?"
Having control over your butchers knife can be both healing and destructive. Nikky Finney's poems are filled with sharpness and written by the blood that trickles off. She chops up her work into three sections, each one showing the duality of control. having control over your own well being verses having the control of someone else well being. As I was reading each butchered section I found most of my "razor-sharp fins" and "delicate sweet bones" in "The Head ・Over ・Heels" section. The way Finney describes what womanhood looks like for many women of color is bittersweet. I found myself not to long ago "willing to go blind, lose her obeying-girl tongue, her momentary sight, for any hot lemony tremble of the long pencils flash ever again". fighting to unlearn my own cycles of silence that I have been forced or taught into. Finney reminded me of that struggle between refusing to have our womanhood pre-packaged "Head off and Split" style and realizing how sharp those razor fins can be when not removed for us. Healing is painful but it is necessary. Healing is never a rose bush without the thorns. Womanhood for women of color is pre-defined and pre-cut to fit white womanhood standards. We are taught that this the only true form of womanhood, the only acceptable version of it. Through her poetry Finney denies this binary. She defines womanhood for women of color as "a women with film reels for eyes". Defining and connecting our womanhood to the collection of our past experiences and the experiences of our ancestors. She makes a point to honor the intersectionalities between brown womanhood and black womanhood. How those two can overlap but still are unique experiences that can not be claimed by the other. Finney also speaks about the displacement of black and brown womanhood. How "Mapmakers, and others, who draw important things, do not want us to know this". They do not want us to realize the ways that white womanhood can be dismembering and violent to black and brown womanhood. Because if we become conscious of this it is easier for "brown girl levitation" to take place. Once we are able to define womanhood for ourselves, once we are able to say no to the butcher that rips out our bones, we can finally kiss "every constellation hiding in the sky of [our] body". Agreeing to our lives being changed forever because we can now channel energies that uplift our womanhood. We have control over our own knives and with sharpness we are able to chose what we wish to keep and what we wish to throw away. So that we can heal. So that we can live.
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DeleteMichelle,
I love how you've put words to Finney's articulation of womanhood for women of color, how she defines and connects womanhood "to the collection of our past experiences and the experiences of our ancestors." She makes the past into a community.
I am interested in the duality of the butcher knife you're discussing... particularly how painful it is when people prepackage your identity and how when you refuse that prescription, you have to deal with the pain of your own sharp fins. Either way, you can't escape yourself. For me, regarding womanhood, there is never an hour that goes by where I don't think about how my choices of self-presentation reflect to people in different environments. The intersections you describe of brown and black womanhood, and how they are displaced by those who seek to draw certain lines, is interesting. I stand on the outside of that experience with my own identity. To be able to "kiss every constellation hiding in the sky of [our] body," I wonder what has to be done. I wonder how to claim my own womanhood. I wonder how to have control of your own knife, and what that looks like.
"The way Finney describes what womanhood looks like for many women of color is bittersweet. I found myself not to long ago "willing to go blind, lose her obeying-girl tongue, her momentary sight, for any hot lemony tremble of the long pencils flash ever again". fighting to unlearn my own cycles of silence that I have been forced or taught into."
ReplyDeleteOOOF! when i was reading Head off I felt the same way. As a woman and only daughter as nicky is, it feels as though its a bigger pressure to fullfill the shoes of what a women of color should be, the standards are higher in the working world, familial world and on a personal level as well. The pressure is relatable in her poems which makes them strong plus they stay with you throughout the week .
Thank you, Michelle, for sharing how much Head Over Heels resonated with you. I thought your interpretations of many of the lines were deeply enlightening and fascinating - for example, how you read "a women with film reels for eyes" as "defining and connecting our womanhood to the collection of our past experiences and the experiences of our ancestors." The image contains some of the duality you're gesturing at, too. Having film reels for eyes means that people don't truly see you b/c your eyes are hidden from them - they've become something objectified -- but it also means, as you've pointed out, to inhabit a subjectivity that is deeply connected to the past and future. To recognize that you are not alone and never have been. I really appreciated your sincere observations & resonances with the journey Finney describes of freeing oneself towards levitation.
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