In The House of Being, Natasha Trethewey reflects profoundly on her early life, exploring how these formative experiences shaped her as a poet. Her father played a pivotal role, often reciting poetry during their countryside walks, embedding in her an appreciation for the rhythm and beauty of language. Similarly, the steady cadence of her grandmother’s tailoring, accompanied by her nurturing presence, created a symphony of sounds and patterns that influenced Natasha's creative development. Language was central to this close-knit family, and her father's introduction of metaphor became particularly transformative, laying the foundation for its centrality in her poetic vision.

wow this was emotional and clear on the magic of writing and how empty pages make it unknown and also easy to face one’s grief and trauma.

Fascinating and insightful memoir written by Natasha Trethewey gives a glimpse of her youth as a daughter of a white man and a black woman. It is a book about identity, family, terrible trauma and loss, but also about perseverance and the power of words. It forces readers to asks interesting questions. How words of others define us? How to use words to express yourself? How our identity is shaped by the world we live in, trauma, other people and their prejudices? How we can shape or change our own identity? How a person becomes a writer and why? The book is rather short, but powerful.

Real Rating: 4.8* of five

Her mother sang her <I>John Brown's Body<I> as a means of soothing the Chernobyl-level burn of racism as the mixed-"race" (how I hate that we still use that horrible, divisive pseudoscientific calumny by default!) family drove past confederate battle flags! (Frequently, then, in her home state of Mississippi...it's on their state flag.) Now, how horrifying an image is that, when that damn dirge that starts with the words "John Brown's body lies a-moldering in the grave" is soothing?! This is the absolute most powerful statement of the horrors the convulsively dying Jim Crow system of the US South inflicted on people of color (another digression: This locution is deeply uncomfortable to white people like me who, in the 1960s, were loudly excoriated for calling African-Americans either "black" or "colored" in the South).

Returning to my scheduled review: Poet Trethewey was unique, then, from birth forward. She was the product of miscegenation (that horrifying term I'm glad I need to define) as her parents were not legally married in her home state until <I>Loving v. Virginia</I> was decided a year after she was born. Her Black matrilineal line was stuffed with women who had embodied what can only be called triumphs of the will, and all the merrier to say that when I know that this application of that phrase will horrify Nazi true believers. The influence of her poet/professor papa is no doubt there somewhere, but Poet Trethewey does not work on one cylinder, she fires on all of 'em.

I can imagine some astute observers wondering what the devil is going on here. <I>Mudge HATES poetry!</I>some are thinking. Some are quite correct. I loathe the experience of reading poetry the same way I loathe the experience of riding the bus. It's crammed with stuff I don't want to know about, it's uncomfortably tight to sit in and in no way offers me enough room or seats designed for my spatial dimensions, it sways and janks and judders over each crack in the road, and the air conditioning almost never works until it suddenly blasts January-on-the-Siberian-steppe gales for a few seconds.

That does not mean I am insensible to its influence on most people. I see it, I get it, I am not of that group but they are quite clearly expressing their approval. And, lest we lose sight of this, the book is Poet Trethewey's *writing about writing*; that is always interesting. As I suspect all good writing must be, the life led by the child-poet became the matter of the adult; in her experiences of racism, white supremacy, and Southern culture, she speaks with a voice that reaches deep into the National Conversation of the US as well as into the emotional cores of many, many, many people.

At under 100pp, this is an afternoon's read for me. It was a pleasure to read...if you've read <I>Memorial Drive</I>, her memoir, you'll know that Poet Trethewey is gifted in prose writing, and if you haven't what is wrong with you?!...and measures her life against her need to write, like a learner sounding out words in a new language. The essay is part of Yale University Press's terrific series of writerly essays. I have only one cavil to report. I felt the origin of the essay as a lecture rather more than I would have liked. I put it down to the poet's innate aurality of expression. I ended up needing to read passages aloud to understand what was being said, and that was also the only way I felt I *got* the Southernness of the Trethewey household. (This also got me very dark glowers from my roommate who is hostile to things literary.)

Hardly a sin, but for this reader a discomfort I could've done without. So can I recommend it to you? Absolutely, and I do. I think anyone interested in writers as entities who transmute life into Art, people intrigued by the shocking dichotomies of Southern culture, and women who batten on reading the success and happiness of their fellows, will all be especially gruntled. I hope men who wonder what hell the fuss about this poetry thing is will give it a read, too, as well as any and all people of color looking to gladden themselves on the success of their own.

If I see Natasha Trethewey’s name it’s an automatic read. After reading her memoir Memorial Drive in 2020 I’ve been anticipating anything I could get my hands on from her…which led me to this immediate NG request THE HOUSE OF BEING.

I dug a little further into the title after noticing it was under 100 pages… a pleasant surprise… this is a part of a series that Yale University Press has put together called “Why I Write” and Trethewey is one brilliant writer of our time contributing.

A glimpse into the crosswords of Highway 49 in Gulfport, Mississippi during Trethewey’s youth. Giving us her reflections on life… family and history in a beautiful poetic voice that shares a sense of place.

I’m excited to see the rest of this series and of course looking forward to Natasha’s next novel!

Thank you Yale University Press📖

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Heartbreaking. Spectacular. Wonderful. Natasha Trethewey examines how the personal, social and political landscape that shapes her life influence the catalyst of her writing (why) and its direction (how). This is a short memoir that delves into how white supremacy and racism affected the author and how she copes with grief and loss. Trethewey offers us a look into how writing came into being in her and how her background as a biracial child growing up in post-Civil Rights era influenced much of her thoughts and ideas in her writing. Trethewey's writing is eloquent and precise. It is heartbreaking to read about her experience with racial discrimination as a child. The part where even the Word Book - a "prestigious" encyclopedia - validates the idea of racial hierarchy is just disgusting. As a reader, it must've been so conflicting to see the discrimination she faced as a kid being recognized in the world of books. Absolutely gorgeous writing. Natasha Trethewey is a gem of a writer.

Many thanks to Yale University Press and Netgalley for the e-ARC!

I enjoy the author’s poetry and her earlier memoir. This volume combines both in what feels like a long essay about writing. Good, but not as satisfying as her other work.

A stunning book by one of our most important writers. I love Natasha Trethewey's poetry and prose and this book is no exception. Her writing is graceful and powerful, and her language enthralling.

Natasha Tretheway crafts every sentence with so much care. Even her writing about painful, difficult subjects reveal her deep love for the places and people from whom she's come. This short book is part of the "Why I write" series. Its depth belies the apparent briefness of the text.

So much thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an e-copy of this gem of a book for review.

Natasha Trethewey writes in such a gorgeous, poetic way. In The House of Being, she ponders her childhood and how it has shaped her identity as a writer. This is a pretty quick read, but the writing is exquisite. It will make you consider your own childhood and the forces that have shaped your life.

Thank you NetGalley and the publisher for providing this ARC. All thoughts are my own.

This is a very short meditation on the writer’s life - largely, growing up in Mississippi with a black mother and a white father and how racism, in mid-20th Century America, impacted on people’s lives so much. Trethewey writes sympathetically about different parts of her life, from her education through to the vile and violent behaviour of Joel, her step-father.

Thought-provoking and eloquent - certainly worthy of being read.

This is a series of observations memories and ideas around the author's motivation, drive and inspiration to write. Told in slight tales, this is beautiful, careful and at times achingly sad. It says so much for such a slim work. It is poetic in the way the author strips words down and makes them work so hard to produce such beautiful images. Stunning.

This is a short and intimate personal reflection from Trethewey that thinks about her writing against a wider context of national, historical and racial American narratives - writing as an act of political resistance but also as a form of self-creation and assertion.

With a white father and Black mother, Trethewey grew up as the product of what was widely regarded as an illegitimate marriage, an act of miscegenation - and it's shocking to realize that this was in the mid 1960s, not that long ago.

This moves easily between the personal and the public, calling out the way history has been rewritten and looking to revive what has been deliberately erased.

Trethewey's world is fashioned through words and literature, from the poetry her father recited to her when she was a baby to the vernacular stories of her mother and grandmother, to the name-checks of people like James Baldwin, Audrey Lorde and Richard Wright.

This is very short, no more than an hour or so of reading but it's an excellent introduction to Trethewey and sent me rushing off to check out her poetry and other writing.

Probably the most stunning 96-page book I’ve ever read. Read all in one sitting and left feeling so inspired by what words can do to a person. ⁣
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Trethewey, a Pulitzer Prize winner, meditates on the geography of her childhood, her mixed-race identity, and how all of these, including her upbringing, led her to the path of writing. I highlighted way too many exquisitely written passages, probably the most I’ve ever done on a slim volume like this.⁣
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“My need to make meaning from the geography of my past is not unlike the ancients looking to the sky at the assortment of stars and drawing connections between them: the constellations they named inscribing a network of stories that gave order and meaning to their lives. That’s one of the reasons I write. I’ve needed to create the narrative of my life—its abiding metaphors—so that my story would not be determined for me.”⁣
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It’s out on 27 June in the UK. I’m thankful for the advanced copy.

My thanks to Yale UP and NetGalley for an e-ARC of Trethewey's forthcoming book. Part of the YUP "Why I Write" series - lectures placed between boards. Short (a bit under 100 pp), and due to be released in early April 2024.
Having loved her memoir, "Memorial Drive" (2020), I was excited to make this my first read of 2024.
The former US Poet Laureate (2012-14) once again informs the history of the US (and especially the South) from her own experience. And vice versa. The importance of family and place - and history, and those who determine what will be shared in the textbooks.
My only complaint - it is too short! But it is what it is - and it being a book by the insightful and brilliant Trethewey, it is well worth a read.
Also, a nod to YUP; it appears they took a number of factors into consideration and have set a reasonable price on this volume once it is going to be published and issued. Not the usual huge list price of UP HC's.

Beautiful and sharp, this piece is brilliant in its remembrance. As a huge fan of Memorial Drive, I was very excited to read this and it did not disappoint. It’s so interesting to read a memoir about a literal place—a home. Seeing her remember her life and the lives of her loved ones through the lens of the house was spectacular and very new to me. I’ve never read anything else like it.

"Because the imagery of dreams is figurative, metaphorical as all languages, it’s easy to apply meaning over the course of one’s life to make sense of not only the past but also the present."

With astonishing writing, Natasha Trethewey navigates introspectively the meaning of her ascendents, presenting her thoughts on grief, resilience, and vulnerability. It’s remarkable how she goes from individual thoughts to collective pain and awareness, always keeping in mind her black heritage. Resolving immaculately how these aspects impact her poetry.

Her recognition as a mixed child didn’t start by comparing her parent’s skin but by the awareness that the world built in her, an accumulation of experience that led her to ask: "Who am I?" Early on, her father taught her that there is a word in the language for everything: ”so my question ‘What am I?’ demanded a word.”

After her mother’s death, Natasha’s writing goes through a metamorphosis, asking herself how to keep her mother alive and how not to erase her. Not even poetry can pull out Natasha of the pain and grief. But little by little, she finds out her mother could be resurrected for a moment, rising to the surface of the page, brought back into the imagination through ”the sacred language of poetry.”

Natasha Trethewey shows that writing is a way “to create another world in language, a dwelling place for the psyche wherein the chaos of the external world is transformed, shaped into a made thing and ordered. It is an act of reclamation. And resistance: The soul sings for justice, and the song is poetry.

The House of Being by Natasha Tretheway is a collection of thoughts, knowledge, and experiences that form her as a writer. Her grandmother’s house represented a safe place full of love, affection, and attention. There, in Mississippi, she recognized the repercussions of racism and the alterations in America’s history and how individuals are shaped by history and culture.

There, she realized who she was.

An author I will keep my eyes on. Can't wait to read more of her work. I recommend this book to everyone who loves to read and enjoys poetry. You will live an experience of the creation and transformation of it, as well as the emotional path every poet goes through.

The House of Being
Natasha Trethewey

Rick sat in his chair wheezing, his coughing sounding like a dying motor. “I have bronchitis,” he whispered hoarsely, “I can’t go.”
“Then I will," I said.
He sank back into his chair gratefully.
With that promise, I set out for the University of Virginia where Rick’s daughter, Natasha Trethewey, was reading from her Pulitzer Prize-winning book of poetry “Native Guard.” I introduced myself to her and explained that her father was home with bronchitis and that I needed her advice regarding my master’s capstone project I was writing under her father, Eric Trethewey’s, advisement. It was about contacting my now late brother about letters he had written concerning my deceased father.
Preparing to write this review of “The House of Being,” I glanced back at some recent interviews with her in Chicago, where she is currently teaching at Northwestern. She mentions that in her book “Memorial Drive,” she incorporated some of her mother’s posthumous writings.
In her latest book, “The House of Being,” Natasha Trethewey writes at length about her childhood home in Gulfport, Mississippi where she was badly frightened by natural disasters such as Hurricane Camille and man-made ones, the Ku Klux Klan burning a cross on their property.
Eric Trethewey, whom we students affectionately called Rick, wrote a short story about that night, and distributed it to the class. Because he knew that I had been an editor before going to graduate school, he asked me to edit another one of his short stories.
He had trouble obtaining a copy of the literary magazine with his story, so when I was in Pittsburgh at a Barnes and Noble, I bought the magazine and gave it to him, more to see if they had kept my edits – they had.
In this latest memoir, Natasha Trethewey identifies with growing up by the water of the Gulf of Mexico and now feels comfortable living by Lake Michigan. She uses geography to recall her long walks with her father, learning about sonnets, villanelles, and palimpsests which she applied so gracefully in “Native Guard.”
I still recall her late father’s look of pride when I mentioned the mastery of poetic formats Natasha used, like the “great masters”. She went on to be the poet laureate of the United States.
Many thanks to NetGalley and Yale University Press for providing me with this ARC.

I want to talk about the gorgeous writing and seamless intertwining Trethewey does of her own life and the history around her. This novel sits on a crossroad between her memories and life experiences and the historical context of Mississippi. She takes the reader on her own self discovery journey, from racial trauma to self identity. This short yet sweet memoir is full of breathtaking writing and poetry and was a joy to read.

Written by Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Professor of Creative Writing, and two time US Poet Laureate Natasha Trethewey, The House of Being is thoughtful, compelling, and quotable on literally every page. As part of Yale University Press’ “Why I Write” series (former entries include those written by Joy Harjo, Karl Ove Knausgaard, and Patti Smith), Trethewey answers the question deeply and provocatively. With a white father and a Black mother (whose marriage wasn’t even legal at the time Trethewey was born) and a grandmother whose house was situated deep in Mississippi at the intersection of two highways — one famous for the Blues and one named for Thomas Jefferson — Trethewey was intimately shaped by the local geography and its competing narratives and prejudices. Combining history, memoir, and a lifetime of meditation on the forces that shaped her, this is a masterwork; thoroughly satisfying and necessary.