Praising the Paradox: Poems

By Tina Schumann

A collection of poetry with “resilience throughout and an awareness of the common world that both comforts and devastates” (Dorianne Laux, award-winning author of Only As the Day Is Long).
 
From Tina Schumann, recipient of the American Poet Prize from The American Poetry Journal and a Pushcart Prize nominee, comes a full collection of fifty-six poems reflecting on the concept of self, loss, fragility, and the constructs we must create in order to face the transient nature of life. Praising the Paradox was named a finalist in the National Poetry Series, The New Issues Poetry Prize, The Four Way Books Intro Prize, and others. It was also listed as a “remarkable work” in the Tupelo Press open submission period.
 
“A rich guidebook for a life—a grand companion. These deeply satisfying poems, with their lush images and fluid sound movements, unfold in elegance, settling the spirit. In every stanza, Schumann’s honest voice feels compelling and humble . . . Nothing forced, nothing labored. What a treat.” —Naomi Shihab Nye, author of The Tiny Journalist
 
“Tina Schumann’s stunning new collection is extraordinary in its intelligence. She has organized her poems by locating the innumerable paradoxes in our lives, in our minds, in the world. Her book is brilliantly unique and, I dare say, unrepeatable; she owns this territory. And what is so important about a paradox? The answer is that paradox is what the world is made of. The other (necessary) ingredient here is feeling. Praising the Paradox will make you feel, think, and reflect. Schumann’s lines will resonate in your heart. They will resonate in mine forever.” —Kelly Cherry, author of Observing the Invisible

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Jul 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781597096188

Book preview

I

a subtitle of self. . . .

TRAVELING INSTRUCTIONS

Because I am feeling like a house today—

all brackets and blueprints—you must appeal to the dog

in me; the one whose snout travels the floor

for any known scent, any signifier of home.

Over the dust that has settled into each mitered joint.

Past the oak molding sanded to a fine point.

I do not tarry for I do not doubt—I simply turn left

when turning left is called for. Because the sidewalk

that buckles at the threshold to the house

covers the roots of trees that meander under walkway

and grass, twine the pipes and reach for the light

of the backyard’s cool, you must appeal to the weed in me;

the one whose roots run deep, whose face is neither fair

nor friendly, but simply there. Because I did not know

what I did not know—I traveled

between desire and compulsion, yen and need, plan and arrival.

I did not query for I could not answer, I simply left

blank spaces along the way; an ellipse here, a dash there.

The ground, now soaked

with weeks of constant rain gave way

beneath my leathered soles. I did not stop

to think twice, the earth is the earth after-all,

taken to burdening itself with all aspects

of nature’s wild ways.

Because the dress I was forced to wear that Easter

I was three was scratchy and poufy and far too yellow

you must appeal to the child in me; the one that ran

towards my father holding the camera and yearned

to yell I hate this dress, but words of protest had not come

to me yet. No matter. That is all in the backwaters

of memory, so you must appeal to the river

in me; all bend and flow, brush and bramble, taproot and rock.

CALCULATIONS

No matter what you start out with you always end up with so much less.

—The Hours

Myself—

the abridged, the novel that never was, subtracted,

abbreviated, a subtitle of self.

So soon to be

the slightest signal of a women, draped in my tattered flag,

holding a box of zeroes

and a mouthful of air.

When the end comes it won’t matter.

In between

I will have thought myself large, whole, my travels far,

experiences grand, many stories to tell and so on . . . .

But what emancipation—

to be diminished, reduced

to the absolute; a room deprived

of its contents, melting ice

at the bottom of someone’s glass,

the tipped bottle and its residual remains.

What delicious deliverance,

what radiant resignation

to be so much

less than I

could have ever hoped for.

YOU ARE HERE

And the day is full

of fallacy (pathetic and otherwise) and thus

were my hours of magical thinking spent

within a demarcation of days and the cockatiel

Reviews for Praising the Paradox

[catherine_gv · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

*I received a free ARC in exchange for an honest review. No compensation has been given and I write this book review willingly. A big thanks to Red Hen Press and Edelweiss+!*Introduction:Schumann’s cover caught my eye with its different dimensionality and pleasing aesthetic. The blurb tugged at my interests and emotions, so I decided to give Praising the Paradox a chance. Poetry, you know, is something I can’t live without.And this book left a positive memory in me.Let’s see how together, shall we?The Blurb:This full collection of fifty-six poems reflecting on the concept of self, loss, fragility, and the constructs we must create in order to face the transient nature of life was named a finalist in the National Poetry Series, The New Issues Poetry Prize, The Four Way Books Intro Prize, and others. It was also listed as a "remarkable work" in the Tupelo Press 2012 open submission period.The Positive Sides:Let’s start with the beautiful and elegant cover. In my opinion, the caged bird in a woman's head really fits the poems' themes such as the feeling of entrapment and freedom, as well as exploration. It suggests pain yet something more, something to reach for.Her raw choices of words make for a delicious read. She uses essential ideas like breakfast and morning mixed with notions of ennui and flowers and jackets with confusion. Different, lovely, and captivating in its own right. I love, just love the manner in which the author transcends ordinary things and concepts with deeper meanings such as freedom, routine, solitude, boredom, feeling trapped… Moreover, the author tackles topics that are hard to hear about, to admit and to think about. I both congratulate and thank her for this initiative. It was fun, good, and refreshing to read about such truths that are rarely seen. I don't necessary mean horrible things like (rape, racism, and others), no, I mean like our own redundancy, our inability to have compassion or the energy to care at some point in our lives, and so on. These are rarely touched upon, but she did. In addition to these topics, her extensive culture and knowledge show on the pages. Interesting!As for the writing itself, I LOVE her line breaks. They make you want to read more, it's a nice "pause" and it always feels like some renewal. The words are well-chosen and the imagery is good.But what about the poems themselves?Central Ave. is the one that made me feel. It had deeper meanings and a hard one at that. The choice of words was well done.Ode to Time, Lance and December Rain is so different (she wishes things we usually don't, and that's beautiful in its own way). I love the format like a staircase, it's long but the verses are short. Her thoughts and emotions and personality are exposed in this one. As well as the story surrounding this poem. And that makes it a beauty.I (In the Absence of You-Meaning Me) goes well beyond the surface both in words and meaning. It's a fun read and it makes you ponder about the self, yourself. Loved the different approach here!As If really got me. It seems to speak about pretence and the lack of knowing oneself and others. We keep up the pretence, as if…Momentary Mother is sweet and delightful and just. So. True. Most of us will protect a child or at least make sure they're all right.For a Single Summer. Wow. Just wow. About our fears, insecurities and how we want to leave them behind or get rid of them, forget them "for a single summer". How they impact our lives at home.Facing the Rain. Love it! About our courage, our resilience, how we face the bad things in our life, how we dare Life and The Reaper to send us more problems, but to give us a new chance also.The Mass Migration of 60 Million Monarch Butterflies May Soon Be History. What guts the poet has! She writes about such a hard and conflicted topic: why care about global things if we can't even care about ours first? Won't we be history too at some point? Ourselves first, and then if we still have compassion and energy, we'll care about bigger things. We always need to deal with bigger things (like one's beloved person suffering from dementia, her father, my grandfather… and others).I have to admit the last few poems are heavy with meaning and emotions. I love them!Finally, the last verse of the last poem really fits the end of this poetry collection. It's honest, it FITS, and it's true to her style.The Negative Sides:Unfortunately, while the poems are enjoyable to read, you forget them soon after. Why? They didn't make me feel anything. They were beautiful, well-crafted, but my emotions weren't stirred (except for Central Ave.)In Conclusion:For all these reasons, and the lack of emotional connection, I give Praising the Paradox a rating of 4 out of 5 stars. The first half wasn't really thrilling… But when it picks up, it's amazing!I will definitely be on the lookout for more from Tina Schumann.