Person Unlimited An Ode to My Black Queer Body by Dean Atta

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This is an excellent book – of course it is, Dean Atta is a brilliant writer. But that also makes it a costly book to read, there are many things that he explores that touch on my own life experience (and many things that don’t and those are powerful too) – but rather than an account of the whole book I will give three points that particularly moved me.

The first one is about the word “queer”.

Dean engages with the term queer, which many of us have a complicated relationship with. It can be a useful short hand for LGBTQIA+, a way of saying I am part of something bigger than my own identity without sounding like I am speaking for the “letters” that are not part of my lived experience. It also has a deep history of being a slur and reclaiming a word that has been spat in your face is too much for many. At the end of the chapter he fills most of a page with “my queerness…” statements which concludes like this:

“…

My queerness is a child playing with a family heirloom.

My queerness is an inheritance, but what I do with it will not be dictated by older or younger generations, biological or chosen family, friends or even lovers.

My queerness is a conversation, and you have a right to reply.

My queerness believes in freedom of speech but not freedom from consequence.

My queerness is a consequence of oppression. And, no, my queerness can’t cure depression.” (p70)

It echoes with “My Short Skirt” from the Vagina Monologues which I first heard it at BGC (as it was then) in Lincoln the best part of 20 years ago. Of the Monologues it is the one that spoke to me and stayed with me. It has made me less apologetic about the times I am visibly queer – and more confident to push any abuse I have received as a consequence away. I am not always brave, I do “tone it down” more often that I would admit – you might not realise it but there are a lot of days when what you see of me is my “attempt” to pass as straight. My Gay Clothes are not an invitation to shout homophobic abuse across the street…

The second is about (not) coming-out.

Dean reflects after the passing of his material grandparents “That’s it, then, I think. Yiayia and Bapou are gone, along with the opportunity for them to accept me unconditionally.” (p134) This was the Cypriot side of his family, the Greek Orthodox Church is far from affirming, and so there were lots of good rationalisations for not having the conversation with them. But there is a feeling of guilt of not giving people the chance to show love bigger than our expectations.

My grandfathers passed while I was still a child, I was out to Gran, who warmly and publicly welcomed Alan to the family (alongside my cousins’ plus ones) at her Birthday lunch, but I was never out to Grandma and that does make me sad.

My then boyfriend came to my Sister’s wedding, while I am sure that most people would have drawn a correct conclusion about the status of my plus one nothing was said.

At some point during the reception Grandma did the “you will be next” thing (remember this was back before even Civil Partnerships). I sidestepped this by pointing out Grandma had 11 grandchildren, 10 of whom were then unmarried, so Ceinwen as her 5^th grandchild had actually jumped the queue. There were plenty of others Grandma needed to marry off before it was my turn (wind the clock on, now I am one of three of the grandchildren that remains unmarried it might take more explaining!).

I was then single for a while, so there was nothing really to tell, and she was increasingly confused so how would you really approach the subject. But the fact that Alan came to her funeral but never had the chance to meet her is a regret.

The third is dealing with sexual assaults.

Dean writes “While I didn’t see my risky sex as brave or sex for sport as healthy, I no longer blamed myself for the sexual assaults I’d survived. I saw it like this: I could let myself sink in self-blame and self-pity or I could float and swim in this open water full of ambiguity.” (p241)

There is a bit of my brain that tell me that if I want give a “sex positive” position I can’t talk about the bad times – but if we are going to celebrate the joy of sex we need to be absolutely honest about the times when that is not the case.

We can be coy about talking about sex, there are things I could share to illustrate the above point but I have decided I don’t want on the internet, and I have decided that knowing that makes me part of the problem – that I am not sharing my painful experiences means you are more likely to be silent about your pain. Our silent is the space that lets the abusive run free. I am sorry...

21st-Century Yokel by Tom Cox

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This is the first book from what we might call Tom Cox’s second era, publishing with Unbound, in which he frees himself from the constraints of commercial publishers’ ideas about what we want to read.

The chapters are really a loosely related collection of essays, as Ring The Hill which followed 2 years later. They are rich in their exploration of place, his Dad takes a leading role within the ensemble cast.

We must be similar ages, and so part of his exploration of identity and your place in the world resonates – here he reflects on his Grandparents and how by the time they were in their mid-forties they took on the persona of “old” people, while we approach a similar age still wondering what we are going to do with our lives when we “grow up”. We have been re-watching Butterflies, at the end of the 70s a sitcom about those in their mid-forties, and it provided echoes of that same contrast.

At one point he recounts passing some hikers going in the opposite direction who tell him to go a different route, as the way they had come was so difficult… “Head they known me, they would have realised that ‘I wouldn’t try to go that way if I were you – it’s difficult’ is one of the three main motivation hiking phrases a person can say in my vicinity...” (p11) the other two being mention of a good pub, the routes associations with 17^th century witchcraft. I felt a connection to a kindred, stubborn, spirit.

The other quote I wish to share is “I made a couple of attempts to stop buying books in the distant past but I’ve since realised it’s an absurd denial of who I am as a person. The fact is, books have always been very kind to me, and I can’t stand to see them sitting alone in shops, unloved.” (p220) something I feel I need on a t-shirt.

Wonderful by Harry Baker

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This follows the pattern of Unashamed with the intros often longer than the poems themselves – but that is no bad thing – they are witty and provide enriching contexts to the poems.

There is a sadness we maybe don’t expect from Harry as many of the poems explore the experience of trying, unsuccessfully, to have a baby – this is released a little as the collection concludes with reflection on that fact that Harry had to get it to publication before the long awaited baby was on the way.

The collection concludes with a poem also titled “Wonderful” - a work which I think I will be slipping into more than one liturgy in the years ahead.

Bless the Daughter Raised by a Voice in Her Head by Warsan Shire

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Another collection found via Forward Poetry, as poems Midnight In The Foreign Food Aisle and Bless Grace Jones were included in the 2023 anthology.

This is a rich and well crafted collection – Warsan is generous in sharing their Somali-British identity – different ways in which there is a sense of belonging and a sense of alienation – there is a lot to be angry about in the ways British society continues to be toxic for those that for one reason or another are characterised as “other” - but this is not a rant, Warsan engages with us rather than shout at us.

All the Men I Never Married by Kim Moore

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This collection won the 2022 Forward Best Collection, the poems are numbered not titled, perhaps a signal that the Men aren’t actually what the poems are about?

Kim writes with a clarity and honesty that is powerful – I didn’t tag poems as I would have probably tagged ever page!

Some poke a bit of fun, written with a wry smile, I think poem 11 is one of those “… The man | who thought he knew everything never learnt that he didn’t, …” but others are raw and harrowing, like poem 24 which deals with rape, its words “Imagine waking into silence” become something unbearable.

Poem 42 uses the technique of redacting a word to make that word speak all the more powerfully – repeatedly the poem asks “is it if…” - the missing word is “rape” but the blank space holds your attention, makes you fill in the gap, in a way that the word itself could risk being brushed over.

These poems not only shine a light on male sexual violence, but also helps those that have experienced that being to process, well without speaking for others they have at least helped me process my own experiences.

Cain Named The Animal by Shane McCrae

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This is another collection ordered after reading the 2023 Forward Poetry book.

Shane McCrae’s form is not the most accessible, you will get out would you put in terms of attentiveness. They are also dealing with experiences of race, colour, and identity which are not my experiences – the poems are powerful and effective but I recognise there is a separation from my own lived experiences which is different from my encounters with the poems of someone like Sean Hewitt who is writing the experience of a cis-gendered gay white male – often it is not simply that Sean’s poems are powerful and effective but I am also engaging with my memories of the same or similar events.

I tagged two poems…

Nowhere if Local – ending with these words “… | Let me die here where I don’t want to die” each time I read those words they seem to say something different

The Hastily Assembled Angel on Embodiment – which is puzzling, it is speaking to something important but I am not sure I can put my figure on what that “thing” is...

The Forward Book of Poetry 1993

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As I have worked my way backwards through the Forward books we arrive at the first edition and for all my belief in a current queer takeover of poetry we find the first winner was Thom Gunn, we are radically doing what some people have been doing for decades before us – but that should inspire us to do it all the more!

Lament by Thom Gunn – the final line “This difficult, tedious, painful enterprise.”

Two Cures For Love by Wendy Cope mainly because it is one of the few poems I can quote in full from memory (the two cures or two lines which helps a lot with that)

When You’ve Got by Helen Dunmore

Snails on the West Shore, August 1991 by Ian McMillan