DAUGHTER, Maureen Eppstein. Finishing Line Press, PO Box 1626, Georgetown, KY 40324, 2024, 42 pages, $17.99 paper, https://www.finishinglinepress.com.
In this collection, readers are offered a rich, poignant evolution of emotion concerning women and the ways they are buttoned up into silence, especially concerning their own bodies and grief. Daughter has a compelling arc, inviting readers into the emotional journey of new bride, pregnant immigrant, mourning-in-silence almost-mother, and finally, reflective and coming-to-terms older woman. The poems detail how we can work toward the reclamation of our spirits, with keen-eyed observance and insistence on our lived experiences. The collection is arranged in two parts: Stone in the Belly and Healing Ground, and this structure powerfully underscores the odyssey from the wound to wisdom.
Ineptitude and dismissal greet the young woman as she travels far from home, and her own body changes more than the landscape of the traveler. The poems chronicle, with searing insight, the ways women are required to quiet their worries and surprises, their joys and deepest sorrows: Something’s wrong screams the voice in my head / Don’t make a fuss is ingrained in my head.
In a second piece in Part I, “Injunction” we are told, along with the narrator, do not flinch / at the hammer-blow / shock of discovering death and life / stalking in kinship. The flinty voice directs the emotions, emphasizing the need to swallow the feelings that come with miscarriage. With the swallowing, the stone in the belly grows and smolders, waiting for the opportunity to know its own kind of birth.
Something’s wrong screams the voice in my head
Don’t make a fuss is ingrained in my head.
However, the poems that come after allow for acknowledgement, mourning and, ultimately, peace. In Part II, Healing Ground, we see a narrator who has the chance to come to terms with her younger self and the losses that have gestated within. Of particular note, “Requiem” and the presence in this piece are especially impactful: I touch cool water to my face / you are here / in the water / in the grass. The writing is able to document how we can come to terms with our pasts, with the ways society has demanded our silences and swallowings.
The slim collection documents a vital journey: selfhood, voiced truth, grief, and reconciliation are all brought to the page with elegant and earned wisdom. It’s a potent mixture of insight, grace, anger, and peace. Each poem is rich in sharp phrasing and vibrant imagery—in it, all readers learn more about mothers and daughters and the circle of women we inhabit.
Charlotte Gullick grew up in Mendocino County and is a novelist, essayist, and educator. Her nonfiction has been published in Brevity, The Best of Brevity, Pembroke, Dogwood, and The Rumpus.