“Fugitive essays”—the subtitle of Roger Reeves’ essay collection Dark Days—exists as a diminutive outlier on the book’s abstract orange and black cover. Positioned out at the margin, its small font rises vertically as if insisting, by its obvious contrast to the bold and horizontal title that reigns next to it, to have its insinuations considered. I think about the meaning of the word fugitive and I am immediately bombarded by the typical connotations that leach from its letters, connotations that are all derivatives of criminality. But it is by design that the reader’s considerations are provoked with such patterns of common thought, for the directive of this book is to purposely present and then subsequently eschew these typical conventions so that new and enlightening definitions are granted residency.
0 Comments
Author Jessie Van Eerden is not content to offer simple or comforting conclusions about faith; instead, she presents prayer as a practice that can be both comforting and uncomfortable, both a yoke and a feather. Her latest book, aptly titled Yoke & Feather, is an intimate collection of braided and lyrical essays that weaves together themes of spirituality, identity, and the search for meaning in the mundane.
The word love—and related affixes, including lover and beloved—appears 159 times in Maggie Nelson’s Like Love. That figure shouldn’t come as a surprise given the essay collection’s title. Nelson, a prominent and prolific writer who has previously examined the intangible and ever present idea of love in her autotheoretical book The Argonauts (2015), forms the title from a quote by writer Hilton Alys: “Every mouth needs filling: with something wet or dry, like love, or unfamiliar and savory, like love.” Nelson satiates that need in Like Love, giving her readers chunks of critical theory to chew on and delectable bites of raw honesty and vulnerability to savor.
Kelle Groom’s memoir-in-essays, How to Live, is a journey that showcases to the reader exactly what the title suggests: how to live. But it’s living through loss, grief, and pain that Groom really tackles most. As Groom moves across the country, we witness her learning this more than we are told explicitly how to do it. The memoir exemplifies how a writer can use their prose to reflect the content of their work. Groom’s often disjointed mindset as she moves around to new places appears physically on the page in the form of short, staccato sentences, some of which are only a word or two long.
Temptation, angst, and lunacy all rear their heads as Sheena Patel explores the obsession that comes with unrequited love in her debut novel I’m a Fan. The fan in question is an unnamed narrator who has wrapped herself up in an affair with an aloof, womanizing older man. Patel, an established poet, chronicles the bad decisions of the unnamed narrator through blunt but enticing prose. Patel puts stock into the power of fan presence, linking political influence to the number of devoted followers one has. The narrator, a woman of color with little recognition, pales in comparison to the white female influencers with whom she must compete. She speaks to privilege packaged as #goals, to algorithms and whiteness discounting indigenous and black and brown creators, and to the universal immature desire to be liked.
|
Archives
November 2025
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
|
Glassworks is a publication of Rowan University's Master of Arts in Writing 260 Victoria Street • Glassboro, New Jersey 08028 [email protected] |
All Content on this Site (c) 2025 Glassworks
|
