Night thoughts 70 dream poems & notes from an analysis

This raw and affecting third collection from Arvio (Sono: Cantos) is really two brief books in one. First, unrhymed sonnets in plain yet vivid language describe a series of Arvio's dreams; second, the poet recalls the childhood troubles that she came to understand through psychoanalysis, in prose that annotates the sonnets but reads like a journal. The sonnets combine the immediacy of memory with the insistent symbolism of dreams; in one "I'm sloughing something but what I don't know/ out of the sea dream out of the deep self." Blood, blades, snakes, beds, and other totemic items invite us to interpret, as Arvio later does: "a black slip with a lace decolletage" becomes "the black slip in which I'll die." These sonnets give up more of their secrets in the prose, where many clues point back to sexual trauma that neighborhood boys inflicted on the poet before her teens. At one point in the analysis came "the first time I had the sense that there was more to know about my suffering and that I might be able to find it." Some readers may find themselves put off by the conventions of psychoanalytic interpretation; others may read Arvio' s serious discoveries for insight both into the poet, and into themselves. (Aug.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

This book contains 70 contemporary sonnets along with lengthy explanatory notes and an index of figurative language. The poems shouldn't be read without the notes; these language poems don't resonate without the context provided by the rest of the book. Nor are they pieces one can dip into at will. Rome Prize-winner Arvio (Sono) rightfully describes the collection as an exploration of the dreaming mind, a memoir, and a poetic record of her experiences under psychoanalysis. The poems exemplify the striking verbal effects that occur with enjambment and wordplay. This is poetry made from running sentences into each other and putting words that sound alike together-without punctuation. Arvio rubs words against each other as though they were sticks under a magnifying glass positioned to catch the heat of the sun. VERDICT When the sticks do ignite, they burst into sparks, fire, and smoke, yielding a galvanizing energy. Like the dreams these vivid poems are meant to evoke, their meaning is not so much in the dream as in the dreamer.-Diane Scharper, Towson Univ., MD (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

"airplane" & now an airplane lands in the field & incinerates I use this strange word when I tell the dream not flames or burns there was a rusty barrel out in back we called the incinerator strange word for an old barrel where we burned the trash I took my diaries out there in back in the brightdamp where a spatter of rain fell in the ashes & striking matches lit the edges & watched as the pages curled charred & would not burn I said my life burn up my life & for one lifetime I thought I can stop now & take them back but no they were burning so I let them burn From the author's notes: My first real breakthrough was the dream called "airplane." Describing the explosion of the plane, I used the word incinerate. And then I remembered burning the diaries. When I say 'remembered,' I don't mean I recalled something I had thought of now and then over the years. I mean that the memory broke open, shocking me, and I saw that -it---the -event---had happened, that I had known of it long before, and then forgotten. The sudden viewing of a lost traumatic memory happened only a few times during the analysis. 'Sudden' means -shocking---the return of a powerful memory. Other memories came more slowly. I understood later that a traumatic memory lost and then found releases other memories. By 'breakthrough,' I mean this was the first time I had the sense that there was more to know about my suffering and that I might be able to find it. "black slip" I borrow a slip from another girl a black slip with a lace décolletage & she accuses me of stealing it no I say I didn't steal the slip I borrowed it but no one believes me here the magistrates are standing near the wall & they sentence me to a razor death my executioner has jetblack hair long & skanky & it swings as he steps toward me with the razor in his teeth I'm sporting the black slip in which I'll die the black slip with the lace décolletage but then I seize the shining instrument & zig it through the air & slash his eye From the author's notes: "black slip"= black lace slip. The word décolletage, a low-cut neckline, comes from the French décolleter, which means cut out the neck of, as for a dress, and also cut someone's neck. Here, I'm the wrongdoer, having stolen the slip, and I'm sentenced to a razor death.... The razors were anguishing, senseless. How could god, the gods, creators of life and dreams, inflict them on me in my sleep? In "shiny foil," my molester--as I call him in the dream--is sentenced to be executed with a razor, but by the time I understand that his molesting is a form of love, it is too late to save him. Just now, as I write, it occurs to me that foil also has another meaning, a literary one: isn't the molester a foil for my own spurning of love and longing for love? A thing that contrasts with and enhances the qualities of the other. Here again, foil: they were foils for each other, the two brothers. I mingled them together, remembering. They harmed me; they hurt my life; they did me irreparable harm. And yet, there was something shiny about me and the one I called the cat, as he bent his head and looked in my eyes--out there on the driveway. Excerpted from Night Thoughts: 70 Dream Poems and Notes from an Analysis by Sarah Arvio All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.