Review by Deborah Locke
After reading Marcie Rendon’s (White Earth Ojibwe) new book of poetry out loud in the vehicle one day, I later turned to Google for reasons for reading poetry. This unattributed reply stood out:
“Poetry is so important because it helps us understand and appreciate the world around us. Poetry’s strength lies in its ability to shed a ‘sideways’ light on the world, so the truth sneaks up on you. No question about it. Poetry teaches us how to live.”
Reader, that’s exactly what Marcie Rendon does in “Anishinabbe Songs for a New Millennium .” (University of Minnesota Press 2024) Her sneaky and sometimes humorous sideways light teaches us how to live forward, and shows us where we were, glancing backward. With a spirited optimism and joyful bounce, this slim volume of poems and songs pays homage to Anishinaabe ancestors and women. Sometimes the words are beautiful, serious, and worth slowing down for; other times they dance off the page. Consider this from “Thunder Woman (Lightness Into Dark).”
“she soared/the day/into being/soaring/higher/higher/leading sun/out of dawn/into being/she soared/east to west/and back around/leading sun/she chased the midnight/out of dawn.”
For the powwow attendees reading this, think of jingle dress dancers swooping past, soaring, leading, chasing. That’s the image I imagined with these words, a woman proud of her heritage and history, dancing with confidence and surety. Great poetry challenges the imagination to find meaning in a few carefully chosen evocative words.
Then again, let’s consider an example of “classic” poetry. John Milton was no word minimalist with “Paradise Lost” which has been called the world’s best epic poem. That blows my theory about writing with few words. Also, meaning is relative in that my meaning and your meaning may be at odds, the same way we disagree on the value of a painting or a novel. What we would not disagree about is Rendon’s control of words. Her mastery is evident in in this dream song that ends:
“in the crook of a cottonwood tree/winter breeze shakes crystal prisms to the ground/she feeds my spirit hope on ice sharpened days and nights.”
Humor, too, pops from the page. “White Man’s Music” shows how the music of white men doesn’t feed the soul and that the dancers to this music move on cold tile floors in shoes with laces pulled too tight. It’s as though throughout every season of her life, Rendon has paid attention to the world, squirrelling away impressions for a clever, later purpose.
One purpose is fiction, like Rendon’s delightful three-book Cash Blackbear mystery series. Speaking for who-dun-it fans the world over, I must inquire: when may we expect the next Cash Blackbear book? We love them and yearn to learn where life takes Cash next. (Rumor has it that a stand-alone thriller is coming out in August. I can’t wait.)
While waiting for the above to appear in book stores, I encourage you to get a copy of “Anishinaabe Songs” and read it out loud. I read it to a vehicle driver as we trundled over connecting highways in northern Wisconsin, a drive enriched by dreams and poems from one of Minnesota’s best writers.
Rendon is an award-winning writer who lives in Minneapolis, Minn.
Anishinaabe Songs for a New Millennium
By Marcie Rendon
University of Minnesota Press
July 16th, 2024
Pages: 88
$16.95.
Learn more at Rendon’s website: https://www.marcierendon.com.
