Make Me Rain
Poems & Prose
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- ¥1,500
発行者による作品情報
One of America’s most celebrated poets challenges us with this powerful and deeply personal collection of verse that speaks to the injustices of society while illuminating the depths of her own heart.
For more than fifty years, Nikki Giovanni’s poetry has dazzled and inspired readers. As sharp and outspoken as ever, she returns with this profound book of poetry in which she continues to call attention to injustice and racism, celebrate Black culture and Black lives, and and give readers an unfiltered look into her own experiences.
In Make Me Rain, she celebrates her loved ones and unapologetically declares her pride in her Black heritage, while exploring the enduring impact of the twin sins of racism and white nationalism. Giovanni reaffirms her place as a uniquely vibrant and relevant American voice with poems such as “I Come from Athletes” and “Rainy Days”—calling out segregation and Donald Trump; as well as “Unloved (for Aunt Cleota)” and “When I Could No Longer”—her personal elegy for the relatives who saved her from an abusive home life.
Stirring, provocative, and resonant, the poems in Make Me Rain pierce the heart and nourish the soul.
"If there was a need for poetry that galvanized and inspired, there was also a demand for poetry that comforted and unified — and Ms. Giovanni provided on both counts." — The Washington Post
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Giovanni (Chasing Utopia: A Hybrid) celebrates in her poignant 20th collection art as redemptive of traumas past and present, illuminating the ways in which "the blues is our encyclopedia." With a mind attuned to ironies, Giovanni considers refuge from systemic injustice: "I remember sitting/ During the age of segregation/ In the colored' car/ Where the Pullman Porters looked out/ For my sister and me/ And we didn't understand we were/ Not wanted/ We loved it." In "When I Could No Longer," speakers affirm the healing power of community against personal abuse, elegizing godmothers, grandmothers, educators and friends, including the late Toni Morrison. The most memorable moments in the collection reveal the cutting directness that made her a laureate of the Black Arts Movement: "The blues may talk about/ My man/ Or my woman/ Who left me/ Or took my money/ And is gone/ But what they mean/ Is I was stolen/ In an African war." Similarly, in "Lemonade Grows From Soil, Too," the speaker wryly notes, "Everybody wants to confuse love with sex. Ask Bill Cosby about that." Such pleasurable jolts offset the collection's more rhetorically slack moments and reinforce Giovanni's unapologetic commitment to documenting both injustice and joy.
