Transience, absent-mindedness, and blocking are types of forgetting.
How ironic. I realize now, reading over the first part of this—what is this?—that I misremembered the word my mother had trouble remembering. My mother was talking about her commitment to learning Chinese. She said, “I’ve been very deciduous.” Then she laughed and said, “No, no, that’s not it.” I tried to help, “determined, dedicated?” But the word she was looking for and finally found was diligent. Slippage. We both.
Misattribution, suggestibility, and bias are types of distortion.
“MOTHERs is extremely uncomfortable in all the right ways and beautiful and painful—a brilliant weave of people and poems, a tangle of ambition, aspiration, care, and ambivalence. Zucker’s mapping of feeling and writing throughout is extraordinarily acute—remarkable.” —Maureen McLane
“MOTHERs is a howling storm of a book. In this desperately digressive essay, the poet Rachel Zucker narrates her complicated path to becoming and not becoming her mother, the storyteller Diane Wolkstein. Zucker turns her intelligent eye outward and inward, including everything she knows about mothers, stories, poems, and consequence itself. In mythic terms, the essay is about a poet who doesn’t want to turn into a storyteller. But as in all myths of avoidance, Zucker must eventually tell a terrifyingly inevitable story.” —Sarah Manguso
Rachel Zucker is the author of seven books, most recently, Home/Birth: a poemic (co-written with Arielle Greenberg) and Museum of Accidents. She lives in New York with her husband and their three sons. Currently she teaches at New York University.
December 15, 2013
$21.00; 6 x 7.5″