Form and Function in
the princess saves herself in this one
Amanda Lovelace is a local author whose poetry went from online popularity and self-publishing to traditional publication with already three editions of the princess saves herself in this one in print. It is a tale of grief, survival, and healing: empowerment of the self and a reminder to “practice self-care before, during & after reading.” The poetry is straightforward and poignant, with most effect coming not from more common poetic devices but by a manipulation of the text itself to achieve a purpose.
The first striking piece of technique that Lovelace employs is in the juxtaposition of her titles; the majority of the collection titles the poem at the end of the piece, rather than in the beginning. This leads the reader directly into the raw emotion of Lovelace – be the subject abuse, alcoholism, or recovery – without any preparation, so each delivery packs a metaphorical punch. For example, consider the following poem:
when i had
no friends
i reached inside
my beloved books
& sculpted some
out of
12 pt
times new roman
& it was almost good enough
Here, the title “& it was almost good enough” not only befits the nature of the poem, but serves as a final closing line as though the title were a part of the poem itself. This technique is employed copiously throughout the collection and provides a unique take on the structure of poetry. Albeit one, short line, the punctuation of the title as a final line is reminiscent of the final couplet of a sonnet; it serves to both summarize the poem and provide an impactful delivery.
Lovelace also enjoys the shape of her poetry: verses themselves are typographically modified to enhance the theme of individual poems. Although not an unfamiliar technique, the restraint and deftness with which Lovelace employs shaping her words allows for multiple readings of each and furthers the narrative:
the princess woke
to feel her castle rocking
back & forth
back & forth
back & forth
This structure repeats but softly gives a cadence of rocking that gradually increases until the climax of the poem: “at first / she thought / a hurricane / must be brewing, / but she was / wrong.” The wavering nature of the poem ending on the word “wrong” substantiates a sense of imbalance or something amiss in Lovelace’s psyche as she crafts the poem.
Lovelace, at points, goes quite literal in the shaping of her poetry, letting the physicality of a word dominate a poem in a picture:
there
was never
enough alcohol
to keep my mother warm
in a house
as cold as
t h i s.
With this poem, the imagery is overt – as to whether it is too literal is subject to debate – but the poem still manages to backload panache by the stinging expansion of the word “this” in the final line. Due to its spacing, one is drawn immediately to the word. “This,” Lovelace is saying, “This is my point,” referring to the text before it, shaped as a house supported by a weak pillar of gapping between the foundation of the house-structure itself. The spaces, then, represent the cracks in a house ruled by this, the mother’s insatiable desire to keep herself from the “cold” by indulging her alcoholism.
This gapping is further employed in words like “s h a t t e r e d” or the scattering of words in the shape of a spiral: “death / wound / itself / around /her / bones / like / a / piece / of / red / ribbon.” There is a certain calculated playfulness – despite the serious subject matter – in the construction of these poems that harkens back to the title, the princess saves herself in this one. By manipulating the words into the shapes she desires, Lovelace is ultimately taking control of the power of the written word on both a physical and spiritual level.
Form and function in Lovelace’s collection subvert the reader’s expectations of free verse by subverting and reshaping the text itself. The juxtaposition of the title at the end of the verse rather than the beginning places a period and stamp of force on the individual poems, while manipulation of individual letters or words similarly compels the reader to look at the poem from a different perspective. Each piece could certainly stand alone as free verse with no fiddling, but there is a thoughtfulness in the structure of the shape of words that conveys emotion and image with poignancy. In this manner, Lovelace’s poetry successfully transcends the confines of language. To further cap off her fancy, flipping to the back cover of the book one can find the ending line of the series, emblazoned in bold, large font just as the front cover, the alternate title (or perhaps, as many of her other poems, the actual title) of the book itself:
the story of
a princess
turned
damsel
turned queen
