The last section of our readings for “Citizen: An American lyric” was filled with profound and somewhat confusing poems, at least at face value. I found myself reading them repeatedly to find something I can cling to when I write my blog post. I found myself getting frustrated the more I read, wishing to find something more tangible like an event or a story that I could just recite or relate to a statistic. I did not find that, but what I did find was a deeper understanding, realization, and interpretation of what I believe Rankine was trying to do. It’s too easy to get a reaction or response from a story you tell, or an account of what happened to someone. A poem, an interpretive form of literature, forces an involuntary response, something raw, unedited, and genuine. If you want to gain anything real from a poem, you must read between the lines. Rankine is trying to invoke an organic reaction to racism and micro aggressions, not some trained response. Rankine could have ended the book with a story that provides closure, something to signify the end, but instead chose to have the readers think beyond the last page.
Responding to a poem and articulating your feelings towards it is a very intimate process, much more intimate than responding to a specific story or a data sheet with a death toll. Responses to poems are infinite and neither wrong nor right. Earlier in the book, we read and talked about Serena Williams, how awful the referees had treated her, and the blatant racism that was directed towards her. Our general responses to these stories were all relatively similar in that it was a horrible thing to have happened to her and a horrible thing that someone would have to go through. Now, poems are stories as well, but it’s how they’re told that makes a difference. On page 159 of Rankine’s poem, it states, “I can hear the even breathing that creates passages to dreams. And yes, I want to interrupt to tell him her us you me I don’t know how to end what doesn’t have an ending.” (159); this is infinitely interpretive and emotionally engaging. You could spend hours wondering who she meant by, “him her us you me” (159). Also, what could she have meant by ending something that doesn’t have an ending? Could she be talking about racism? Maybe, maybe not. The point is that the answer isn’t right in front of your face. I think that encompasses what micro aggressions is are. It is something that seems to be nothing at face value, but once you read between the lines, and allow yourself to be vulnerable, you then start to realize what an impact your actions can have. For example, if you pull into a parking spot and notice that the person you are parked next to is black, but then you decide to move your car a few spaces over – it isn’t flagrantly racist, but implied. This is similar to the answer of a poem’s meaning not being obvious, but if you really look into it and internalize your actions, you will see how that behavior could be indirectly racist.
On the very last pages of the book, we see a painting. Paintings are also a form of interpretive art similar to poems. There are two pictures of the same painting but one is zoomed in to a specific section of the artwork. This hints at the idea that Rankine wants you to look closer; to pay more attention and think deeper into the meaning between the lines. I also feel that it conveys how everything is not always as it seems. At first glance, the painting just looks like a ship battling a storm, but when it is zoomed in, you realize the tiny details. Something may seem innocent at first but could be deeper and darker than it appears. I believe this is what Rankine intended: to end with something that cannot be ended, something that can always be altered or thought of indefinitely. She uses her poems and the paintings at the end of her book to suggest that the story isn’t over and that she doesn’t want our thoughts of racism and injustice to stop once we finish reading. In the final line of the last poem in the book, it states, “It wasn’t a match, I say. It was a lesson” (159); a match is something with a start and an end, but a lesson is something you carry with you for the rest of your life. Rankine’s use of poems and art to finish off her book was a brilliant way to encompass the full extent of the intricacies within poems and micro aggressions. Ultimately, she blended something beautiful with something ugly and hateful to symbolize the boundless complexities of racism.
Discussion questions
- Was there an example of micro aggressions in Rankine’s section of poems that stuck out to you? What made it impactful for you?
- Do you feel that the use of poems in African-American literature was a stronger way to convey the struggles and themes of racism than narrative stories? Why or why not?
Works Cited:
Claudia Rankine, Citizen : An American lyric (Graywolf 2014)
Hi Connor,
I really loved your honesty in your post and how you elaborate on how confusing the text could be but also try to come up with a connection. The connection you talked about was the lingering racism instilled in society. To answer one of your questions, one poem that stuck out to me was also confusing. I think poems in general are confusing especially if there’s not context but reading it from Rankine perspective, I think I see one. The poem says “I they he she we you were too concluded to know whatever was done could also be one, was also done, was never done- the worst injury is feeling you don’t belong so much, to you- “ (149)I also read this numerous times because I don’t really know what they’re trying to tell me. What I think they’re trying to say is also paired with the art on the next page. The part where it says the worst feeling is thinking you don’t belong; I interpret it coming from a person who is biracial. Biracial people always get that missing feeling of belonging from both sides. Being too black or being too white. They’re never enough to their families. Their mind is set, the damage is done. In the picture it’s a person who is being silenced. They have different hands covering them up like they’re ashamed and don’t want everyone to see. And having that arm in the mouth is almost like being shut up. This is the point of poems. To guess, it’s a guessing game. There is a write and wrong answer usually but in these poems they’re so vague and broad that I think its supposed to be a guessing game for readers. It’s supposed to be open-minded for readers to see if they can find a connection within in and there’s no point of an ending, like you said.
Hi Conor,
I love your blog post and interpretation of the ending of the book. I applaud your honest discussion of your reaction to the poems and art at the ending, and how at first you were frustrated, but you ended up finding valuable meaning in the ending. I think your comparison of poetry and art and the intricacy of it to the intricacy of microaggressions is fascinating. This is such a great way to think about microaggressions, I loved your statement “Once you read between the lines, and allow yourself to be vulnerable, you then start to realize what an impact your actions can have.” I think this is a wise interpretation of Rankine’s work, and is exactly what she is asking us to do as we read. Her choice to end the book with poems and art speaks to the complexity of the issues that she discussed in the book, and the unique formats she utilizes throughout the book (like the “you” perspective) are all techniques to not only grab attention and make the book emotionally engaging, but also force the reader to read and think closely about the issues presented. On the last page, Rankine writes, “I don’t know how to end what doesn’t have an ending” (159), which speaks to the purpose of the novel. It leaves us with so many unanswered questions, and as you mentioned, so much art and writing that seems completely up to interpretation. I think that Claudia Rankine does not want the reader to simply put down the book and move on, but continue to engage with the material in the book and other works of art and narrative that explore American society & the black experience.