This was a poetic masterpiece and each poem really spoke to me in its own way. The book is pure beauty, I really loved it.

Ocean Vuong takes your heart and throws it into a million different pieces. Which is the emotional ride I was looking for. Time Is a Mother is his second potery collection after dealing with the loss of his mother. Though sometimes dark, the writing is still so tender and soft. You will not be able to make it through without a dry eye.

"Enriching Vuong’s already sterling early career, this new collection feels abraded by both the weight of loss and of living, yet is cut with a profusion of affecting beauty and humor."

From my Library Journal review.

I think this was an excellent poetry collection. Ocean knows how to write compelling and breathtaking lines that make you think about them for days and days after.

It may have been that I was not in the right head space for this book because I really did not enjoy it. I can't really pinpoint why I did not.

Title: Time Is A Mother by Ocean Vuong
Pub Date: Available Now
Written By: Elliot Eatinger

Summary:


Ocean Vuong’s sophomore poetry collection–the stories of life lived by him, others around him, and those long gone–is crafted into a four-part series that travel right into one another. Deeply intimate and reflective, while maintaining a sense of sharp humor and awareness even through
tragedy, Time is a Mother captures an impossible range of emotion that only a masterful writer such as Vuong himself can depict.


Vuong returns with a triumph of craft that feels as if you are walking backwards and forwards with him through the poetic narrative, chasing down a deeply personal story forever in-progress.



Review:


I am back to talking about Ocean Vuong. It’s no secret how much I’ve come to adore his work since I read quite a lot of it during the pandemic and I even recently reviewed his novel On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. To me, it’s more than just anticipating a loved author’s work – it’s the exhilaration of setting off on an emotional journey and getting something new out of it each read.


In Time Is A Mother, the reader is dared to consider the paradox of life. Vuong shares stories of being molded by war, of gut-wrenching realities of queer identity, of loss that makes one look further inward until there might be nothing left to dig for. He shares just how brilliant it might feel to live in the chaos, to not turn a blind eye away from the pain but to take it all together – because neither life nor death exist in a vacuum. That is where we begin.


The four parts of the collection – titled by their respective Roman numerals – feel almost theatrical in their movement, leading threads through each and every page to keep you tied in. The prelude piece, titled “The Bull,” sets up the prevalent theme of watching one’s own journey and having nowhere to go but forward despite all that pulls you back. The bull in the poem is revered with fear and curiosity in equal measure, and as he reaches into the depths for answers, our story begins.


This structure helps to follow the conversations of thought. Starring in all four parts are mentions of Peter, whom the book is dedicated to; his family and closest friends, with a special tribute to Rose, his mother; the “bullet” that travels in and out of time, both literal and metaphorical; the concrete and abstract of parentage and the bearing it has on one’s existence.


But of course, there is the significance of time and that is perhaps the greatest unifier of the piece: “Time is a mother,” “time is a muhfucker,” time is a guardian and a villain and the most unchangeable force that we live around. Vuong’s discussion of time takes a different shape in each piece, offering the backdrops of a hundred different stories that we are taken through.


The cruelty of human history is familiar and prevalent, given in specific examples such as “Toy Boat,”, “The Punctum,” and “Not Even”; so is love, however, and preservation for the self and for others – “Dear Peter” and “Beautiful Short Loser” and “Woodworking at the End of the World.” That is to say, the collection is best kept together in this complexly-layered gift.


Vuong has never shied away from this complex confrontation in language, using cutthroat honest confessions intermingled with breathtaking metaphor. Some of the most provoking imagery came from the simplest of confessions, such as in the Part III piece, “Reasons for Staying”:


Because my uncle never killed himself—but simply died, on purpose.
Because I made a promise.
That the McDonald’s arch, glimpsed from the 2 am rehab window off Chestnut, was enough.
That mercy is small but the earth is smaller.
Summer rain hitting Peter’s bare shoulders.
The ptptptptptptpt of it.
Because I stopped apologizing into visibility.
Because this body is my last address.


What we can garner from each and every reason – a promise – reveals almost what feels like a mirror and our own reflection staring back. The collection does not demand of its reader to search where their heart might lie in our continually chaotic world, but presents it to consider and sets off on its way.


There is no room to question where the heart of Time Is A Mother might be; it’s everywhere. “Dear Peter” and “Dear Rose” almost bookending the piece feels like two halves of a heart coming together, shaping the poetic labyrinth in which Vuong allows us to traverse. One speaks of the longing for a loved one during a difficult time away; the other recounts a son reaching out to his mother one last time. The parallel with these letters draws to the element of time once more – of memory and how precious it is:


Dear Peter:

Peter

I'm wearing your sea-green socks

to stay close I swear

I'll learn to swim
when I’m out once
& for all



Dear Rose:
stop writing
about your mother they said
but I can never take out
the rose it blooms back as my own
pink mouth how
can I tell you this when you’re always
to the right of meaning


The structure of each piece is just as bountiful as the content itself – ranging from epistolary-style runthrough pieces that swallow the ideas whole, to provocative free verse that earns the attention it asks for on every page, and beyond. Vuong knows the form more than well enough to break it, to recreate it, to give a mouthpiece to feelings often lost to our own instincts. Grief, love, the complex mourning and celebration of being human – where do we find the right words or the right time for any of it?


Time Is A Mother allows the reader insight into that answer. It may not be a clear-cut answer. It may be an answer that takes you back through the book a dozen times in search of what Vuong means, amidst your own Künstlerroman.


Time is a mother, and there is no going back from the comfort of her arms – only forward.

A beautiful, moving book of poetry by the masterful Ocean Vuong. These poems are filled with intensity and deep emotion, and will be a strong purchase for any poetry collection.

Vuong showcases his lyrical talent once again; a beautiful follow-up, filled with struggle, passion, anger, and love.

In Time is a Mother, critically acclaimed author Ocean Vuong’s second poetry collection, grief and self-reflection are intertwined in a poetry collection that is both deeply intimate and unreserved. Working through the loss of his mother, Vuong picks apart memories studded with grief experimenting with poetic form, language, and feelings. Similar to his first collection Night Sky with Exit Wounds, these poems command attention in a way that pulls the reader into Vuong’s subconscious- you can feel the moments when Vuong is spiraling, when he is grappling for an understanding of himself, and when he has reached even the smallest moments of clarity. Snapshots of Vuong’s life and his experiences as a Vietnamese American are woven into this collection reflecting on identity, sexuality, mental health, trauma, and his relationship with his mother. The format of the poems varies, and Vuong draws on the works of others (make sure to read the Notes & Acknowledgements section). Some poems are clear reflections while others are deeply esoteric, though you will find yourself wanting to re-read and revisit the collection in a fractured ordering, perhaps reflective of Vuong’s experience. Though each poem stands on its own, if you were to read one poem before the others Amazon History of a Former Nail Salon Worker may be an interesting place to start.

I have only just started to dive into poetry more. And I am so happy that I have. I love Ocean Vuong's writing and the way he talks about his experiences. I'm so very excited to read more from this author in the future!

This second poetry collection from Ocean Vuong is lyrical and beautiful. While the poetry stands on its own, it's best read in conjunction with or in succession of On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous. One piece gives context to the other.

I want to start off by saying I think Ocean Vuong has incredible talent, and I've never read anything quite like "Time Is a Mother." That being said, I feel so much was taken away by the lack of punctuation, complicated extended metaphors, and unorthodox formatting. I don't think any of these things are objectively negative, but in this collection, I personally felt it took away from the emotional aspects of the poetry. I remember there was one poem with an ingenious concept, but it was so convoluted I didn't get much out of it. For me, poetry is about how it makes you feel, and for this book, I spent more time trying to wrap my head around what I was reading that prevented me from feeling. I know I'm not lacking in reading comprehension skills, but when I read poetry, I want the complexity to accentuate the feeling, not the other way around.

This is a case of "It's not you - it's me." For real. For whatever reason, I just don't gel with Vuong's writing. If you liked their previous works, you'll probably like this one too.

Time Is a Mother, Vuong's follow up to On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, is a collection of poems that all hover around the loss of Vuong's mother. Themes of loss, addiction, memory, and critical observations of being American will feel familiar to those who've read Vuong before. And I don't have to tell you that the words are beautiful.

Thanks to #NetGalley for the ARC.

Ocean Vuong continues to be a resonant voice in the contemporary poetic realms. reading this collection i came to these points where because poems seeks to understand the grammar of self often, as much as a reader can feel and touch on the depths, even connect inward--there ware still limits to how we come to another's grief and construction of that grammar. it was definitely a collection tho that had me wondering how do we communicate loss and try and connect that out into the expanse and shake around the collective. i was listening to a conversation between fred moten and hanif abdurraqib and there was a way they put understanding and trying to understand language that made me like recognize where i wasn't fully in complete connection with or there was a stall in my connection rather--its that there will be moments as we continue to expand our language of misunderstanding. i had to read a few lines and poems where i felt i almost forgot how to read what was being shared to me, like there was a grammatical error on my end. i think because i was looking for a format that mimicked vuong's last collection--but that's an impossible expectation because people change as they continue to explore themselves and their own grammar and way of communication. i feel there was a vocal shift that jarred me--moments that felt like african american vernacular english and those moments felt like they didn't fit for me personally because vuong isn't black--and maybe i misinterpreted the words formed. and really it was just the starts of the poems and the occasional middle, but there were just snippets of aave that were not hitting for me. . but not all the poems were like that. i had moments where i connected to deep, lined with the loss as i cope with the change of my own mother. there were such stunning and just electric poems in this collection. i was excited to see vuong's word play, poetic play, narrative play. it was a delight and also a little devastating. i want to reread to better grapple with what they gave and enfolded onto the pages.

This was a stunningly raw and honest collection of poetry from Ocean Vuong and I fell in love with the stunning prose. While the subject matter was not the easiest, Vuong's ability to craft beautiful prose pulled me in to the work and awed me on nearly every page.

I haven't read Vuong's other work yet, but it is officially on my TBR and I'm very much looking forward to reading it.

A huge thank you to NetGalley and Random House for the early copy of this one!

Ocean Vuong takes his readers on a journey through life via this book of beautiful poems. Full of hardships and beauty with glimpses of hope among the struggles, these words will it with me for a long time to come. Two poems that stand out: 1) the Amazon shopping list of his mother who has cancer 2) the rewind through his life. This is the first book I’ve read by Ocean and I can’t wait to read more.

Thank you NetGalley and Penguin Randon House for a free advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

Ocean Vuong is outstanding. Time is a Mother showcases the breadth and fragility of human life, and it's always such a joy to read Vuong's work.

Vuong is by far one of my favorite poets. After reading On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous and Night Sky With Exit Wounds, I was astounded by how he sees the world and skillfully puts his experiences to paper.

I want to read this book again, going through and fully analyzing each poem and their beautiful intricacies.

Time Is A Mother is a captivating meditation on grief and family. I loved seeing connections to themes touched on in Vuong's other works. This collection is vivid, honest, and essential.

Thank you NetGalley and Penguin Random House for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Time is a Mother by Ocean Vuong is a collection of poetry primarily based on the relationships and experiences Vuong had in his real life, in particular his mother Rose. The first half of the poems in this novel, although well written, often left me confused as to what the author was trying to convey. This is not to discredit the book, since I did love a bunch of poems from the first half of the novel including “Dear Peter”, “Skinny Dipping”, “The Last Dinosaur”, “The Last Prom Queen in Antarctica”, “Dear T”, and “Not Even”. Some poems in parts I and II boded well for me and some didn’t, mostly due to a lack of clarity in some of the poems. Vuong’s writing style overall is hauntingly beautiful and complexly layered; each time you reread the poems in this collection you reveal to yourself a new perspective in the story, a new concept that connects to the overall undercurrent of the novel. The second half of the book is truly where the heart of the story lay. Vuong’s writing is all-consuming; he writes from the perspectives of people, places, and things that you never would’ve thought to read from and it resonates with you. It’s evident that Vuong wrote the poems in this collection from a place deep within his heart, especially and obviously including the poems about his mother Rose. I’ve always believed that writing is a healing power and I thought it was intriguing how Vuong uses poetry as a way to heal himself and to communicate with the people who have left him scarred, even when they cannot begin to understand him or what he’s trying to say.