Designated Mourner

Written after the death of the author's spouse due to drug addiction, this 10th collection from Owen (Trobairitz) is comprised of elegies that focuses on grief. Unfortunately, the expression of that grief is marred by static narratives. Take these lines from "Shrine," a villanelle that uses photographs to conjure the dead: "I'm the only one alive in the shrine for the dead/ On the shelves that hold the photos of those we have lost/ I want to live in you forever you always said." Not only is this stanza disconnected, its focus on self makes it insular and difficult to penetrate. This is symptomatic of the collection as a whole; Owen leaves little room for the reader to identify with her poems' emotions, personalizing where she should involve her audience, and using imagery that rarely sticks. When she writes "You are not my muse;/ you are my partner/ and even dead/ what I write of you/ will always be a letter,/ personal, intimate," it lacks the intimacy of the relationship being discussed. The collection fails to capture the immediacy that a grief narrative requires, leaving only a vague emotional landscape in its wake. (Apr.)