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Entering
Poetry. Moving from the Eastern Seaboard to the Pacific Northwest, these poems enter and explore interior and exterior landscapes. Using direct speech, humor, and deft metaphors, Cecelia Hagen writes about the emotional terrain of experiences that are both savored and plundered, resisted and surrendered to. The wryness here is unmistakable, and cohabits with poignancy as if the barriers between those often opposed states of being had been somehow melted.
"I love the clear, sensual music of Cecelia Hagen's Entering, the strange and ruined beauty of this solitary poet's landscapes, the bristled and voluptuous memories of growing up, each rough the knife that 'speaks to what it cuts' (saying) 'your turn.'"—Dorianne Laux
"Entering is an adult coming-of-age book. Cecelia Hagen's perceptions are spot-on, giving us 'the eye with its attentive hunger/ or the body's appetite for flight.' Even the humor is wise. In 'I Want to Be a Man' she becomes a dog under the porch wondering 'what it's like/ to be such a strange, unlikely thing/ as a woman.' In clear, attentive language, this poet tells us."—Penelope Scambly Schott
"This collection casts many nets, and it casts them far and wide—reincarnations, daily rituals, sex, divorce, memory, parenthood, out-of-body travel. In these poems, chicken necks thrown into the Chesapeake, blue gloves worn during sex, the thrust and dudgeon of crows, and a grown woman bathing in her mother's bathwater all occupy the same deeply felt territory. These are poems of experience, and they come from a body and a poet alive in the world, a woman who sees '…a vulgar beauty / I can't help loving a little more than I want to.'"—Michael McGriff
"Quietly audacious and finely tuned, Cecelia Hagen's poems capture nature and humanity in all their seasons, all their wildness, all their tenderness. Entering is an exquisitely crafted book, breathtaking in its clarity."—Barbara Ras
"I love the clear, sensual music of Cecelia Hagen's Entering, the strange and ruined beauty of this solitary poet's landscapes, the bristled and voluptuous memories of growing up, each rough the knife that 'speaks to what it cuts' (saying) 'your turn.'"—Dorianne Laux
"Entering is an adult coming-of-age book. Cecelia Hagen's perceptions are spot-on, giving us 'the eye with its attentive hunger/ or the body's appetite for flight.' Even the humor is wise. In 'I Want to Be a Man' she becomes a dog under the porch wondering 'what it's like/ to be such a strange, unlikely thing/ as a woman.' In clear, attentive language, this poet tells us."—Penelope Scambly Schott
"This collection casts many nets, and it casts them far and wide—reincarnations, daily rituals, sex, divorce, memory, parenthood, out-of-body travel. In these poems, chicken necks thrown into the Chesapeake, blue gloves worn during sex, the thrust and dudgeon of crows, and a grown woman bathing in her mother's bathwater all occupy the same deeply felt territory. These are poems of experience, and they come from a body and a poet alive in the world, a woman who sees '…a vulgar beauty / I can't help loving a little more than I want to.'"—Michael McGriff
"Quietly audacious and finely tuned, Cecelia Hagen's poems capture nature and humanity in all their seasons, all their wildness, all their tenderness. Entering is an exquisitely crafted book, breathtaking in its clarity."—Barbara Ras
82 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 2011
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
May 2, 2015
This is the same review I posted on Amazon, but I wanted it to be here too.
Entering: Poems, by Cecelia Hagen, is a collection of poetry that is aptly named. The poems are about the process of entering, moving through a space that we call life. Hagen navigates through relatable experiences with an appreciation for “vulgar beauty / I can’t help loving a little more than I want to” (3). The collection sees beauty in a variety of everyday occurrences, from the thirst quenching yet rust-stained drinking fountain in a childhood school in “Filling the Holy Water” to the experience of getting off of the bus in “Getting out of Limbo”, where the speaker’s “joy spills out like a gallon of paint” (76). The journey of “entering” these poems offers the reader an experienced perspective on both the difficulty and pleasure in our lives, an experience that is empathically still in-progress.
The book is divided into four sections, each section progressing through different stages of life in an almost bildungsroman-like manner, yet with a feminine tone. The collection navigates through the joy and fears of childhood, relationships with others and the self in young adulthood, and the love and apprehension of being a parent. The first poem, “The Exile Returns, in Theory”, successfully captures how the collection as a whole functions. In the poem, the speaker is a tourist, renting a room in a run-down hotel with sagging window screens. The scene is less than beautiful; in fact, it’s a little gross, yet:
“They won’t know how it used to be,
and I won’t know why I’m there, the land
surrendered, open to everyone, with a vulgar beauty
I can’t help loving a little more than I want to.” (3)
The poems that follow express this love, opening up to the reader with an understanding that aesthetic is not always in the “beautiful” things, but all things, the good, the bad, and the ugly. In the first section, the poems focus more on childhood experience. The speaker leans on her brother in the poem “Brother”, appreciating sibling relationships as they explore and learn about the world together. In “Filling the Holy Water”, a boy named John fills his teacher’s holy-water bowl with water mischievously taken from the drinking fountain instead of using the water that was blessed by a priest. With humor, Hagen addresses the troublesome question of “why does it matter where the water came from?”, pondering the fact that the unholy drinking fountain water comes from a place where “everyone bent to - / so empty of thought, so beautifully - / whenever they were thirsty” (13). In this poem, the source of the “holy” water, or the beauty, is from an unexpected place, which is a reoccurring theme in Hagen’s work.
The second section of the book moves on from simply wondering why things are the way they are to embracing and exploring them. In “What’s Out There”, the speaker concludes the poem with,
“The only way to begin
is to pick up the brush
and paint what’s out there,
starting to coat white paper
with the invisible sheen of water” (19)
which embraces the youthful spirit of going out into the world and trying new things. The perspective of the poems shifts to a young adult speaker, and in “The Glimpse” the momentary experience of connection with a man whom the speaker sees while driving is overwhelming enough for her to pull over the car. Overwhelmed, yet thankful for “jolts such as this” (25) the speaker appreciates the simple beauty of that connection. This section of poems has a strong heart beat as it searches for a bigger connection with the world, a world that is “waiting to be ripped open, rejoined, resealed, / rearranged, and remodeled beyond recognition” (29). The pain of misunderstanding, of connections disintegrating, is overwhelming in the poem “Sidelong Glance”, where the speaker’s husband is distracted from his wife as he stares at an attractive woman. The loss of what intimacy husband and wife used to have is upsetting, yet still deserving of a poem.
In the third section of this collection, there is a theme of healing from pain and a more developed, mature understanding of life. “Reticence” begins the section with a lovely poem that recognizes the scars and mistakes of the past, appreciates lessons learned, and reminds the speaker about the powerful beauty of the world. Even though the speaker becomes an “ex”, she appreciates what the world still offers in “The Balm of Continuing Education”, where the speaker takes wildflower identification class. Despite the fact that the speaker’s nose is running from crying, she looks to the plants for comfort, and
“I wipe my nose on my sleeve, envision
a five-year plan, thinking by then
these troubles will all be behind me.
And for now, a companionable chorus
From the likes of burdock and loosestrife,
feverfew, self-heal.” (47)
The healing process is also a growing process, and the fourth section of poems reflect on that mature perspective. Several of these poems are about the experience of having children. In “My Children Are the Bright Flowers”, the speaker reflects on how intense being a parent is, where she “never realized the zeal / with which I’d spread myself so thin, / so wide, so deep” (63). In “Slow Harvest”, the speaker reflects on the faith one must have in themselves to be a parent, with the repeating line “I breathed easier, or believed I could” (75). These poems do not lose the fascination and wonder that the earlier poems have, where beauty can be found in a simple moment when the speaker’s ex draws a map in “Passage”. As the speaker navigates through the cave in “Spelunking”, the ideas in the poem transition from a simple thought, when the speaker remembers her father’s birthday, to more complex ideas. She appreciates his ability to forgive her for forgetting it, and, “in the absence of light / as my pupils widen” (62), (a metaphor for Hagen’s thoughts as they widen too) to recognize traits of her father within herself. She wonders if the ability to appreciate, to recognize the beauty in “any unlikely stranger, any glimpsed form” (61) will pass on to her children.
This collection has a complexity and depth that is reflected in often seemingly simple moments in life. The poems have elegant pacing, carefully crafted moments of enjambment, well-selected line breaks, and a musical language that is carefully crafted. Each poem is a moment of beauty, even if the theme is painful, which shows how important it is for Hagen to see beauty in all moments. Reading all of the collection at once makes it seem almost like a memoir, the connections between each poem creating a wonderful story, but each poem does stand on its own. The each poem reflects the intelligence and wit that Hagen possesses as a poet, and a mature understanding of the world by appreciating the “vulgar beauty” that is the human experience.
Entering: Poems, by Cecelia Hagen, is a collection of poetry that is aptly named. The poems are about the process of entering, moving through a space that we call life. Hagen navigates through relatable experiences with an appreciation for “vulgar beauty / I can’t help loving a little more than I want to” (3). The collection sees beauty in a variety of everyday occurrences, from the thirst quenching yet rust-stained drinking fountain in a childhood school in “Filling the Holy Water” to the experience of getting off of the bus in “Getting out of Limbo”, where the speaker’s “joy spills out like a gallon of paint” (76). The journey of “entering” these poems offers the reader an experienced perspective on both the difficulty and pleasure in our lives, an experience that is empathically still in-progress.
The book is divided into four sections, each section progressing through different stages of life in an almost bildungsroman-like manner, yet with a feminine tone. The collection navigates through the joy and fears of childhood, relationships with others and the self in young adulthood, and the love and apprehension of being a parent. The first poem, “The Exile Returns, in Theory”, successfully captures how the collection as a whole functions. In the poem, the speaker is a tourist, renting a room in a run-down hotel with sagging window screens. The scene is less than beautiful; in fact, it’s a little gross, yet:
“They won’t know how it used to be,
and I won’t know why I’m there, the land
surrendered, open to everyone, with a vulgar beauty
I can’t help loving a little more than I want to.” (3)
The poems that follow express this love, opening up to the reader with an understanding that aesthetic is not always in the “beautiful” things, but all things, the good, the bad, and the ugly. In the first section, the poems focus more on childhood experience. The speaker leans on her brother in the poem “Brother”, appreciating sibling relationships as they explore and learn about the world together. In “Filling the Holy Water”, a boy named John fills his teacher’s holy-water bowl with water mischievously taken from the drinking fountain instead of using the water that was blessed by a priest. With humor, Hagen addresses the troublesome question of “why does it matter where the water came from?”, pondering the fact that the unholy drinking fountain water comes from a place where “everyone bent to - / so empty of thought, so beautifully - / whenever they were thirsty” (13). In this poem, the source of the “holy” water, or the beauty, is from an unexpected place, which is a reoccurring theme in Hagen’s work.
The second section of the book moves on from simply wondering why things are the way they are to embracing and exploring them. In “What’s Out There”, the speaker concludes the poem with,
“The only way to begin
is to pick up the brush
and paint what’s out there,
starting to coat white paper
with the invisible sheen of water” (19)
which embraces the youthful spirit of going out into the world and trying new things. The perspective of the poems shifts to a young adult speaker, and in “The Glimpse” the momentary experience of connection with a man whom the speaker sees while driving is overwhelming enough for her to pull over the car. Overwhelmed, yet thankful for “jolts such as this” (25) the speaker appreciates the simple beauty of that connection. This section of poems has a strong heart beat as it searches for a bigger connection with the world, a world that is “waiting to be ripped open, rejoined, resealed, / rearranged, and remodeled beyond recognition” (29). The pain of misunderstanding, of connections disintegrating, is overwhelming in the poem “Sidelong Glance”, where the speaker’s husband is distracted from his wife as he stares at an attractive woman. The loss of what intimacy husband and wife used to have is upsetting, yet still deserving of a poem.
In the third section of this collection, there is a theme of healing from pain and a more developed, mature understanding of life. “Reticence” begins the section with a lovely poem that recognizes the scars and mistakes of the past, appreciates lessons learned, and reminds the speaker about the powerful beauty of the world. Even though the speaker becomes an “ex”, she appreciates what the world still offers in “The Balm of Continuing Education”, where the speaker takes wildflower identification class. Despite the fact that the speaker’s nose is running from crying, she looks to the plants for comfort, and
“I wipe my nose on my sleeve, envision
a five-year plan, thinking by then
these troubles will all be behind me.
And for now, a companionable chorus
From the likes of burdock and loosestrife,
feverfew, self-heal.” (47)
The healing process is also a growing process, and the fourth section of poems reflect on that mature perspective. Several of these poems are about the experience of having children. In “My Children Are the Bright Flowers”, the speaker reflects on how intense being a parent is, where she “never realized the zeal / with which I’d spread myself so thin, / so wide, so deep” (63). In “Slow Harvest”, the speaker reflects on the faith one must have in themselves to be a parent, with the repeating line “I breathed easier, or believed I could” (75). These poems do not lose the fascination and wonder that the earlier poems have, where beauty can be found in a simple moment when the speaker’s ex draws a map in “Passage”. As the speaker navigates through the cave in “Spelunking”, the ideas in the poem transition from a simple thought, when the speaker remembers her father’s birthday, to more complex ideas. She appreciates his ability to forgive her for forgetting it, and, “in the absence of light / as my pupils widen” (62), (a metaphor for Hagen’s thoughts as they widen too) to recognize traits of her father within herself. She wonders if the ability to appreciate, to recognize the beauty in “any unlikely stranger, any glimpsed form” (61) will pass on to her children.
This collection has a complexity and depth that is reflected in often seemingly simple moments in life. The poems have elegant pacing, carefully crafted moments of enjambment, well-selected line breaks, and a musical language that is carefully crafted. Each poem is a moment of beauty, even if the theme is painful, which shows how important it is for Hagen to see beauty in all moments. Reading all of the collection at once makes it seem almost like a memoir, the connections between each poem creating a wonderful story, but each poem does stand on its own. The each poem reflects the intelligence and wit that Hagen possesses as a poet, and a mature understanding of the world by appreciating the “vulgar beauty” that is the human experience.
March 8, 2018
Cecelia Hagen reveals how stubbornly simple life can be. She uses everyday phrases out of which the beauty of joy and the pain of vulnerability erupt with a natural poise. Her poems have music, poignancy, and balance while serving up the wisdom of embodied experience. One comes away realizing that everything is worth notice.
Here are three examples. The fruits of risk-taking shine through in "Blue Gloves."
I wore blue gloves
to make love.
Covering my fingertips,
my palms,
made each touch
an excursion.
Sometimes I'd put the gloves on
for a different reason,
wear them as I rode my bike
or drove to some party
full of near-strangers
and feel the same
sensation, a flagrant
indelicacy
that went unnoticed
by nearly everyone.
In "Flung," I can feel the momentum of a tree greening into itself.
What catapults the catalpa into that froth of blossoms, bone-white
knuckles sprouting pistils and stamens from freckled crevices
where bees kneel to glean what grains of mercy
can be obtained from pollen?
And how well Ms. Hagen demonstrates authorial honesty when reflecting on the competitive nature of some writers.
I understand you more or less
lost all respect for me
when I didn't understand
the raccoon metaphor
in that poem you sent.
. . . I'm dense in my own cocoon,
you know that too well.
What you don't see is your own
mummy bag, the way it cramps your style. Wait,
Hagen tells the hard truth, then redeems the moment with a bit of humor in the next line.
Here comes another raccoon!
Highly recommended. This is solid writing from a poet whose toes are scrunching in the humus.
Here are three examples. The fruits of risk-taking shine through in "Blue Gloves."
I wore blue gloves
to make love.
Covering my fingertips,
my palms,
made each touch
an excursion.
Sometimes I'd put the gloves on
for a different reason,
wear them as I rode my bike
or drove to some party
full of near-strangers
and feel the same
sensation, a flagrant
indelicacy
that went unnoticed
by nearly everyone.
In "Flung," I can feel the momentum of a tree greening into itself.
What catapults the catalpa into that froth of blossoms, bone-white
knuckles sprouting pistils and stamens from freckled crevices
where bees kneel to glean what grains of mercy
can be obtained from pollen?
And how well Ms. Hagen demonstrates authorial honesty when reflecting on the competitive nature of some writers.
I understand you more or less
lost all respect for me
when I didn't understand
the raccoon metaphor
in that poem you sent.
. . . I'm dense in my own cocoon,
you know that too well.
What you don't see is your own
mummy bag, the way it cramps your style. Wait,
Hagen tells the hard truth, then redeems the moment with a bit of humor in the next line.
Here comes another raccoon!
Highly recommended. This is solid writing from a poet whose toes are scrunching in the humus.
August 13, 2016
Quiet language covering deceptively serious poetry. Wide variety of subjects and perspectives. Dips into everything from the frustrations of the writing life ('My Poem') to the perils of dysfunctional relationships ('Her Husband is Watching Pornography.') Reminds me (a lot) of my beloved Dorianne Laux, which was nice. I thought no one was still writing the Laux/Addonizio brand of simple but profound poetry.
October 30, 2011
I reviewed this book on Amazon. This is a wonderful book of poetry for anyone who loves poetry. Even if you don't think you like poetry, this book will change your mind! http://www.amazon.com/Entering-Ceceli...
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews