When a dear friend tells you they’ve encased their soul in paper, it is best to tread carefully. Poetry is an intimate form of literature. To translate your inner trials, triumphs, and longings into language and is a brave thing to do. I deeply admire McKenna Hight’s courage in sharing her debut poetry collection, Sublimity, with the world. It’s an act of hospitality I’m honored to receive.
Before proceeding, I’d like to say a few things about my relationship with the author. Sometimes in life, you meet people and find instant kinship. You may only be around each other for a few days, but that’s enough to form what will likely be a lifelong friendship. McKenna, I think, is one of those people. We met four months ago during my brief Spring Break stay at Rochester L’Abri. She’s a writer from Atlanta and we bonded instantly over our mutual love for YA fantasy and Sarah J. Maas. During our short time together, we had some really intense discussions about faith, struggles, and how we are to live. Meeting McKenna was no accident and I value her friendship immensely.
As a blogger, bookstagrammer, librarian, and amateur book critic, it made complete sense to do a review of Sublimity. I use the word “review” lightly. This post is pretty long, as I get into some close reading, but that’s part of the fun. While it’s definitely possible to critique a work of poetry by its structure and adherence to literary form, poetry is hard to pin down. So much of a poetic work is subjective. Poetry is a conversation. It’s about immersing yourself in the figurative language and gleaning whatever you can. I don’t pretend to understand all of Hight’s poems. I don’t think understanding is the point. There is no concrete meaning to poetry and there is space for a thousand interpretations. Poetry is about the journey, so let’s journey together.