Cover of Men, Women, and Ghosts
    Poetry

    Men, Women, and Ghosts

    by LovelyMay
    Men, Women, and Ghosts by Amy Lowell is a collection of poetry that explores themes of love, loss, and the supernatural, blending vivid imagery with emotional depth to examine the complexities of human experience.

    In “Men, Women and Ghosts,” we encounter a har­row­ing nar­ra­tive divid­ed into seg­ments, each car­ry­ing its weight of human emo­tion, rang­ing from betray­al to the uncan­ny. The first part delves into the tale of a rur­al rela­tion­ship strained and even­tu­al­ly rup­tured by infi­deli­ty. Amidst the idyl­lic set­ting of bud­ding apple trees on a serene morn­ing, a wife, left behind by her indif­fer­ent hus­band, suc­cumbs to the com­pan­ion­ship and advances of anoth­er man, Elmer. Her con­fes­sion unfolds as a defi­ant asser­tion of her exis­tence and worth beyond her mar­i­tal con­fines, high­light­ing her des­per­a­tion for acknowl­edg­ment and the result­ing embrace of momen­tary pas­sion, despite the fore­knowl­edge of its fleet­ing nature and the poten­tial for result­ing vio­lence from her hus­band, Jake.

    Tran­si­tion­ing from per­son­al betray­al to the embrace of the new, the nar­ra­tive shifts to “Off the Turn­pike.” Here, we meet a fig­ure poised to depart from the famil­iar to the anonymi­ty of city life in Chica­go, dis­card­ing the lega­cy of a place inter­twined with per­son­al his­to­ry for an uncer­tain future promised by a niece. This poignant rev­e­la­tion at the doorstep, amidst offers of dough­nuts and the bit­ter-sweet­ness of good­bye, speaks vol­umes of human resilience and the cease­less search for renew­al.

    The nar­ra­tive then takes a dark­er turn, ven­tur­ing into the realms of the super­nat­ur­al with the account of a wid­ow ter­ror­ized for eight years by an inex­plic­a­ble phe­nom­e­non. This expe­ri­ence, marked by the dis­cov­ery of a dis­em­bod­ied hand among lilac bush­es under the haunt­ing moon­light, evolves from a pic­turesque night into a chill­ing encounter, blur­ring the lines between real­i­ty and the unspeak­able. Despite the spec­tral hor­ror, it par­a­lyzes more with its incom­pre­hen­si­bil­i­ty than its poten­tial for harm—a metaphor for the unre­solved and uncer­tain facets of life that linger long after their appar­ent pass­ing.

    Each seg­ment of this nar­ra­tive, rich in emo­tion­al depth and spec­tral ambi­gu­i­ty, intri­cate­ly weaves the human con­di­tion with its flaws, yearn­ings, and unex­plained phe­nom­e­na. The tales mar­vel not only at human resilience in the face of per­son­al upheaval but also at the eerie bor­ders where the known world meets the inde­scrib­able, leav­ing the characters—and the readers—hovering at the brink of rev­e­la­tion and dread.

    0 Comments

    Heads up! Your comment will be invisible to other guests and subscribers (except for replies), including you after a grace period.
    Note