Patterson marvels at the pervasiveness of some of her family members', on both her paternal and maternal sides, dying by suicide . . . Tying together environmental, political, and historical facts in her family tree, the author imagines what it means to take one's life and shares what it's like to be the one left behind. As fascinating as it is upsetting, Patterson has intersected the past and future, imagining the silent crisis happening among the men in her family, as well as the persistent fear of her own potential demise through self-harm, all while considering genetics, societal pressures, and prescribed antidepressants. The end result is an elegantly tragic work of research, history, and creative nonfiction that seeks answers, closure, and ultimate peace." —Library Journal, starred review
A spare, sensitive evocation of Patterson's experience of grief, paired with an insightful work of family and regional history . . . The poet's sensibility is evident in these pages, as she excavates her own raw emotions alongside passages of clear-eyed journalism and creative nonfiction. Sinkhole is a painfully honest and sobering work that may provide insight and comfort to those facing a similar tragedy.'" —Shelf Awareness
Patterson's lyrical and discerning treatment of a global 'psychological crisis' will keep readers transfixed. —Publisher’s Weekly
"Part lamentation, part ode, this urgent and scintillating second collection by poet and activist Patterson examines the beauty and violence of our present ecological moment with a lyric and meditative eye."―Publishers Weekly
“Quiet, patient, yet often with a swarming force, these poems worry the fraught intersection between humanity and nature, where, as we quickly see, threat abides.”―Ryo Yamaguchi, New Pages
“Comprised of free verse poetry that is part lamentation and part ode, Threnody is an inherently fascinating and engaging read that showcases Juliet Patterson's genuine flair for linguistic image making and truly memorable verse in a compendium that is very highly recommended for personal reading lists, as well as community and academic library Contemporary Poetry collections. 'Nounal': Purblind wall-space, white / white, tree-studded / tract in the windowed / air. Ray of light point, the dark marsh / shows its way through / the ragged wood. // The half-opened door, / you, with all your otherness, Here, the faint sounds / of shade, the tumbled sheen / of home. A wave, a word, / adrift.”―Midwest Book Review Small Press Bookwatch
Spare, pastoral, intimate, and probing, these musically exacting poems offer arresting insights: “Here’s a world for today: // killing & not dying / fantastically, not lying.” They question, invent, refer, divert, take flying risks. They are fluid, considered, dignified. They celebrate the human eye, mind, and tongue. It is a joy to have them in print.—Olga Broumas
Juliet Patterson’s poems are entirely themselves; they use time and the eye and tongue—all the body, as thought and insight, inside and outside history. The Truant Lover is a marvel—Jean Valentine
In the 31 poems of Patterson's debut (also the first full-length collection from Nightboat Books), stories create the experiences they narrate: ""As in the parable, the truant lover / arrived."" Speaking in a clinical, yet vulnerable voice, Patterson seeks to delineate ""I"" from ""eye"": ""I in the form of my own urging, eye / in its movement follows the body's future / path."" Patterson's style foregrounds the visual, and the book is rife with references to visual artists. Lines are also lifted from poets including Lorine Niedecker, Brenda Shaughnessy and Donald Revel, emphasizing the connection of the senses and the arts. Patterson's search for self-knowledge often threatens violence as well: ""A book is a huge cemetery."" Yet this same force also preserves life: "Members breeding / on poisonous members // store the poisons / for their own defense." Patterson has crafted a far reaching first book that blends self-interrogation with metaphysical inquiry. Both Patterson and Nightboat show great promise.—Publisher’s Weekly
These poems are driven by a voice that I think would define the world clearly and unequivocally if it were possible. Instead, the poet is forced (like most of us) to offer up images, the correspondences that connect them, and the humanity behind what life leaves for us. —Mercer Butler, Painted Bride Quarterly