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Biographical note: Molly McGlennen was born and raised in Minneapolis, Minnesota and is of Anishinaabe and European descent. She is an Assistant Professor of English and Native American Studies at Vassar College. McGlennen’s poetry and scholarship is widely anthologized. Simon Ortiz calls Fried Fish and Flour Biscuits “food for our struggle and food for our victory as Indigenous people.”
BIC Basic
EAN13: 9781844718320 ISBN: 9781844718320 Author: Molly McGlennen Title: Fried Fish and Flour Biscuits Series: Earthworks Product class: BC Language: eng Audience: General/trade BIC subject category: DCF Publisher: Salt Publishing Pub date: 30-Nov-10 Extent: 80pp Height: 216 mm Width: 140 mm Thickness: 5 mm Weight: 120 gms Supplier: Gardners Books Supplier: Ingram Book Group Supplier: Inbooks (James Bennett) Availability: IP Price: GBP 9.99 Price: USD 15.95 Rights: World
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Short
description/annotation: Calling upon the personal memories and ancestral antecedents of her Anishinaabe family heritage, Molly McGlennen writes poems for Fried Fish and Flour Biscuits that render the continuance and celebration of the complex realities of Native American life in the 21st century. McGlennen’s collection of finely rendered lyrical and narrative pieces recounts the story of physical and spiritual nourishment, as the poet begins by telling her readers that her poems, like family recipes, are best served aloud.
Main description: Calling upon the personal memories and ancestral antecedents of her Anishinaabe family heritage, Molly McGlennen writes poems for Fried Fish and Flour Biscuits that render the continuance and celebration of the complex realities of Native American life in the 21st century. The collection of finely rendered lyrical and narrative pieces recounts the story of physical and spiritual nourishment, as the poet begins by telling her readers that her poems, like family recipes, are best served aloud, shared as gifts, and regarded as pieces of gratitude to be given away. Telling us how “memories flesh her fully,” McGlennen paints an intricate but compassionate picture of growing up “away from the lakes that have always fed her family,” and of urban life where she and the neighbor kids shoot hoops in alleyways and “fall asleep in the backs of old cars.” Operating as a sort of give-away, McGlennen’s collection weaves childhood memories, family histories, and present-day memorials as a means to forge paths of continuance of Indigenous culture. Narratives range from the connective trails of blueberry picking and walleye fishing, to the tragic freeways of protesting an execution at San Quentin, to the regenerative passageways of falling in love and giving birth. Finally, through the gesture of feeding “those networks of connection,” each poem invigorates the life-ways inherent in sustaining cultural relationships even when one finds herself a great distance from her home.
Table of contents: Contents Preface To-Do List Before Writing a Poem: Legend Living the Language Dream Song Learning Irony in Order Our Hands What Red Leads To How to Make Rock Soup A Trail of Devotion For Uncle In Spirit Shanawdithit, the Last Beothuk War Curio At the Oakland Indian Charter School Tour Guide Maneuvering Targets Silent Death Paper Hearts Once She Was a Ghost Double Vision Swallowing Her Words Columbus Day Composition What Holds Us Preparing for Flight Letter Letter II The Dance From the Kitchen Yosemite, 1976 Exposed Film Clip Interwoven Luminary Remembering Louis Coming Back Round Three Poems for Ellia So Many Times I Have Missed You At the Sushi Bar Wine Tasting Weaving Water Synonymous 10 Little Indians Dementia Epilogue View excerpt as PDF: Click here to view a sample (128 KB)
Excerpt from book:
Legend
My body remembers the time we rolled out dough for two days. Flour hands salted heat a kitchen like fire. Careful not to pat it too thin, biscuits should fill empty stomachs you tell me. No more school after fourth grade— what’s a little girl to do but listen and follow the mark of a hand, hear a history punctuated by story, when your mother would whisper hers in between scaling and gutting the walleye, ashamed to admit how lakes had always fed her family how she had married a pale Frenchman moved away from the water. So you a daughter once removed now stands next to me— says history doesn’t have to mean coming over in a boat, says this is how you feed a family: until your hands and arms ache until your body remembers the blood in its lines like fried fish and flour biscuits.
Unpublished endorsement: Molly McGlennen’s poems remind us of the significance of smaller acts as memorials to larger remembrances of the people, places and images that have made us who we are. In these finely crafted, telling poems, McGlennen also reminds us to remember the strength of our relatives and the courage of those who stood strong in the face of suffering and oppression. This is an excellent first collection, full of sympathetic turns, unforgettable faces, hands and moments of imagery, coursing connected lines and empathic associations—all drawing us artfully back to a better sense of who we were and who we have become. Gordon Henry Jr. Unpublished endorsement: “You say poetry/ like dream/ is visited/ by people/ and their stories….Today we pray/ for the coming generations while I ready for bed once again/ days as backdrop/….Five hundred years spill outside my window./ Stars snared in my vigil/ I will dance all night—/ our own drum sending a prayer/ ribbons tied round my song.” Yes, poetry is community building. The poet’s voice is simple and clear and concise and vibrantly alive. Do we need anything more than that? That surely is what we need. Believe it. We must. And therefore to act upon our belief. That’s what Indigenous peoples have said time and time again. That’s Molly McGlennen’s voice. That’s the heart, soul, power, compassion, and spirit of her words. Her clear and concise poetry in Fried Fish and Flour Biscuits is food for our struggle! And food for our victory. “I assemble with the hands of a poet/ who does not know the end/ of her poem….If I use food, it’s mostly/ what I can recall: Wild rice and walleye,/ peeled oranges left for me in the morning….” Yes, let’s eat then and live ever and ever within community our poetry is building! Simon J. Ortiz Unpublished endorsement: Each poem in this collection offers its own gift: a re-imagining of forgotten figures of Native history, a lush and gentle reverie on the legacy we leave our children, the reclamation of lives daily “parceled” by institutional education. Taken together, McGlennen’s poems—“picture words imagined in blood,” “memories that flesh her fully”—build like those who populate them a vital continuance for a colonized culture. In finely pitched tones, this poet combines songs, family stories, recipes, and regrets—the vegetables, seasonings, and stones of a lyrical rock soup. The images accumulate—“each drawing an act of survival;” the simple wisdoms sustain us—“these directions are small rushes of air.” In “Album,” McGlennen writes, “Tear open these words. This poem is gratitude.” By the end of the collection, the reader wants to inscribe her own gratitude—to the poet. Kimberly Blaeser Unpublished endorsement: In poems that glide like water and sing with silt, submerged in a history insistent upon rejuvenation, Fried Fish and Flour Biscuits introduces the reader to an intimate side of Native life in a 21st century America. Nimble in her ability to weave childhood memories with ancestral antecedents, Molly McGlennen is a rare and welcome voice on the poetry landscape. Matthew Shenoda |