"Ararat" is a beautifully crafted collection that delves into the complexities of familial connections with the perfect balance of a sober, critical eye and an open, beating heart. These are the stories of someone who understands that love often includes pain. To truly love the people closest to us is to know that they are often the best at breaking our hearts, and Gluck demonstrates that in every line of prose.

This is an excellent poetry selection. Gluck gives us an intimate look at her family and their dynamics between her and her mother, father, and sisters. There is a lot of sadness, but it is so raw and beautiful.

When I picked up “Ararat” for the first time, I had zero background on Gluck or her previous, or, rather, current, works. My proclivities stray towards works of fiction, science-fiction, or fantasy, depending upon how removed from my environment I feel like at that crucial moment between deciding to read and narrowing down my ever-rickety stack of books. It came as no surprise that a collection of poems deep-routed in trauma, loss, and familial strife struck a chord. Who doesn’t have some neglected part of oneself only brought to the surface by unwittingly emotional verses? Immediately, I knew Gluck’s unsubtle snapshots of an ordinary American family’s generational (predominantly female) wounds would stay with me long after I finished. Gluck’s curt sentences pack a punch stronger than other meandering prose attempting to dive into a woman’s psyche. Her exploration and digestion of her relationships call the reader to examine their own, pry into their memories, and explore feelings long since forgotten. It would be injudicious to say this was an easy or comforting thing to read. Rather, it is because of the discomfort I recommend it. What is art without emotion? Gluck made me feel, and that is praise not bestowed frequently.

Most of these poems revolve around the figure of the mother and the concept of family. They are not easy or happy poems, but they are certainly beautiful.

La maggior parte di queste poesie ruota intorno alla figura della madre e del concetto di famiglia. Non sono poesie facili né felici, ma sicuramente sono belle.

I received a digital advanced review copy from the publisher in exchange for a honest review.

I think there is hardly any review as difficult as that of poetry. Reading poems is something so individual and subjective that I find it almost impossible to write a review that will objectively tell others what to expect. So, please, if you are reading this, remember that this is an absolutely subjective reaction to those poems.
I liked most of them, especially once I started reading them out loud, which really intensifies the experience. However, there were some that I could absolutely not resonate with, and I think that’s okay. A poetry collection, for me, is more like a pantry, where you take what you need and ignore the rest (or save it for later).
My favorite poems were those about sisterhood, especially since they were not the happy, sunshiney type, but rather also showed the rivalry that sometimes exists. They convinced me with their brutal honesty and matter of fact-ness. Some poems I probably did not understand correctly or they just weren’t for me. Again: That’s okay.
The whole collection is somewhat depressing and it’s not the book for you if your are looking for uplifting poetry. The titles feature sibling rivalry, problematic relationships, generational trauma, death, and so on.

So beautifully sad and moving. These poems are about familial ties, grief, childhood, adulthood, parenthood. Raw and painfully real.

This edition, set to be published April 2025, has an eye-catching cover—hope Goodreads will update it soon. I will be buying a physical copy upon publication!

Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Strauss, and Giroux for the ARC.

“I’ll tell you something: every day people are dying, and that’s just the beginning.”

Nobel laureate Louise Gluck’s collection “Ararat” is a collection of cold, precise analyses of death and the family unit. The verses themselves are skeletal but pack such a punch that I found myself muttering “Jesus Christ” and setting down the book every few pages. Her clinical self awareness is addicting to read, like hearing about the most painful parts of someone’s psyche through the eyes of an ambivalent god. “I must learn to forgive my mother, now that I’m helpless to spare my son.”

I am admittedly not a frequent reader of poetry, with my only real passion being a middle school obsession with Sylvia Plath, but this collection was moving while still approachable. My favorites weighed heavy on the first half of the collection, but the final poem is beautiful closure. Hoping this opens up a new literary interest for me. “Like anyone, I have my dreams. But I’ve learned to hide them, to protect myself from fulfillment.”

From the start to, let's say, half of the book, I was only liking a couple of the poems, while furiously searching for a common theme.
It went like this: a loss (or: death) > specifically, a death in the family > and the little wounds your family gives you from which you never recover > a legacy of death > silence or, even better, a sort of omertà, for some things are not to be spoken aloud > being a woman in relation to the family, a daughter/mother/wife, and grieving (loving) your family from any of those places.
And so from my initial reluctance (my internal dialogue: "this could be better. it could be much worse, too") it started growing on me (picture an hyperbole) until I was nearly crying by the end. The farther I went, the more I could see this was a story in poetry.
It could be that it's also your story.

Ararat is a deeply moving collection, with profound and sharp musings on family, sisterhood, motherhood and relationships. The collection focuses on the myth of the happy family and explores relational dynamics as they are influenced by death and separation. In "New World" she describes the relationship between her parents, and "Animals" is a study of her own relationshipwithher sister. With scintillatingmeditations on grief and the distance it brings in families, Ararat delves into the nuances of being a daughter, a sister, a mother, a friend, thus sculpting a vivid image of the poet. "Terminal Resemblance" stood out to me the most, and Glück's masterful words convey a wide array of emotions that moves the reader and stays with them. 5/5