Above Ground - Clint Smith

Above Ground is one of multiple books that I read but did not write about soon after finishing. I enjoyed this book of poetry and yet still remember myself wondering what counts as poetry. He has a prose-like writing style and perhaps poetry was wrongly depicted as erudite, like fine wine, and therefore outside of my grasp. I have been listening to the Wine 101 podcast by Vinepair, and throughout the episodes, I am struck by the American insecurity about our ability to access fine art, fine wine, and the higher echelons of society. There is something to the chip on our shoulder, that we are evolved past that, that informs the anger in this country. I mention this because these undercurrents very much informed my own reaction to this book. I adored the journey through his personal life, through the delightful details of watching his babies grow up, through the universal pains of humanity. And the negative Nancy in my head wanted to strike down the art form as a fear reaction, to say, it’s not that good - when it absolutely was. It was a piece of art that drew me in, made me feel my feelings, drew out old memories, and, I believe, expressed some truths for the author. If we could all find an outlet like this, then let our worlds be better for them, whether as reader, writer, or standby beneficiary of the uplifting energy created by its mere existence. On a more superficial level, it was a book that was also a visual expression of art, that the layout of the words on the page, the rhythm, the spacing, the font, the white space. This was a visual work of art as much as it was a literary one.