rankine claudia citizen an american lyric

'I love language because when it succeeds, for me, it doesn't just tell me something. Come on.' -from Citizen: An American Lyric It's 'an anatomy of American racism in the new millennium' ( Bookforum). It combines poetry with commentary, visual art, quotations from artists and critics, slogans, and scripts for films. The book lays bare moments of racism that often surface in everyday encounters. It was also named one of the best books of the year by numerous media outlets, including The New Yorker, The Atlantic, National Public Radio, and Publisher's Weekly. It was a finalist for the National Book Award in poetry and winner of the NAACP Image Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, the PEN Open Book Award, and the National Book Critics Circle Award in poetry while at the same time was a finalist for the same award in criticism. Citizen: An American Lyric is sweeping the country, already chosen by dozens of schools and centers as a community read book. Jamaican-born author Claudia Rankine is the author of five collections of poetry, two plays, and numerous video collaborations.

Pauline T.This title will no longer be available for programming after the 2020-21 grant year.

Strong on Summer Reading Series: “Stop Talking: Indigenous Ways of Teaching and Learning”

Patricia Wilson on Summer Reading Series: So You Want to Talk About Race.

Sarah Ropp on Summer Reading Series: So You Want to Talk About Race.See our calendar on the left sidebar for more information.Įxcerpt from “What the Body Told” by Rafael Campo ApClare Callahan Leave a comment Campo will deliver a public lecture called “Training the Eye, Hearing the Heart: Art, Poetry, and Healing” on April 21st at 12pm at the Blanton Museum of Art, sponsored by the Texas Institute for Literary and Textual Studies, with support from the Humanities Institute. “Please, doctor, can you heal me?”Įxcerpt from “Illness as Muse” by Rafael Campo, poet, essayist, and physician. Soon enough, my patients start to arrive, and the way they want me to understand what they are feeling only immerses me more deeply in language’s compelling alchemy: “The pain is like a cold, bitter wind blowing through my womb,” murmurs a young infertile woman from Guatemala with what I have diagnosed much less eloquently as chronic pelvic pain. Of course, the next morning always comes and I find myself in my clinic again, the exam room speaking aloud in all of its blatant metaphors-the huge clock above where my patients sit implacably measuring lifetimes the space itself narrow and compressed as a sonnet-and immediately I’m back to thinking about writing.

Rankine claudia citizen an american lyric