Take Nothing With You

As has often been my experience with collections, whether or poems, essays, or stories, I found Take Nothing With You, Sarah V. Schweig’s book of poems, to be somewhat of a mixed bag. There’s no doubt though that the weight tipped more on the side of the positive, making it an easy if not wholly full-throated recommendation.

One of those positives is the subtly varied nature of the poems, small differences in lyric form, voice, and tone that nonetheless add up to a welcome sense of freshness as one moves through the collection. I especially appreciated this since I came to this collection after reading another whose monotone nature was wearisomely relentless.

Subtle can be used as well to describe the way Schweig employs her language, with sounds being more light near-echoes than out and out rhymes, and often carrying the reader across lines rather than falling neatly and predictably at the end points.

Here, for instance, is a segment from “Bloodwork”: Some guy, bleeding, just beaten By hooded strangers on the late train,

Asks some girl, a witness, the same question That lovers ask each other, turning from mirrors . . .

Where most you meet are bled dry And broken, or have cashed in

Care for possession, where the injured Offer you their arms so you might . . .

You can follow the sounds throughout: the “b” and hard “e” from bleeding to beaten, the “a” in strangers, late, train. That “train” echoing a bit slant in “question”, as the “er” sound carries through girl, lovers, other, turn, mirror. The “m” in mirror bridging into “most you meet”, “question” reappearing, again slant, the tiniest echo, in “cashed in” leading into “possession.” It’s the kind of craft work that doesn’t call attention to itself, isn’t flashy or loud, but that works under the consciousness, easing the reader’s passage and emphasizing certain phrases. And it’s the kind of craft that underlies all these poems, even the ones I didn’t respond particularly strongly to.

Schweig also shows a nice turn of full phrasing, as at the end of the same poem, which closes with: “Where the aimless fling curses/like boomerangs through the air” or this line from “Shift”: “No man is born with mop in hand.”

Thematically, absence and abandonment stalk many of these poems. “The Lovers,” for instance, begins, “After he let, she darned our clothes” and repeats that cold phrase later as well, “After he left, the abandoned piano still hummed.” One of my favorites, “To a Daughter” starts with the speaker toasts the daughter she did not have:

I raise a glass to you, Lorraine, to your nonexistence.
In the dark, I pour a glass and raise it up . . .

The man who would have been your Father has been drinking quietly the dark alcohol . . .

As a quick side note, you can see another technique Schweig often turn to in her poems—that of repetition, in this case the raised glass, which later is echoed by the image of a boy and father after they’ve gutted a fish: “And they raised their hands up/glistening with scales, and the scales were the colors of rain.” And then still later, the man “who would have been/he raises a glass.”

The theme of loss appears in yet another favorite of mine, “Stories (II)”, which opens with the hard hitting: “It is your last night on Earth,” a line repeated throughout as the speaker meanders through a part carrying her tumbler of bourbon and discussing poetry and opera, moving on until the ending:
“Once there was a man, and then there wasn’t,” I wrote once,
This is STORIES (II). It is for you, who are missing. I’ve kept it poised,
Clear, a promise to you, a tribune. It’s what you taught me. Tell me,
My lover says now, and it’s simple, old friend. I cover my face with my hands.

I had, as noted at the top, a mixed reaction to the poems in Take Nothing With You. But the strong poems, such as “Stories (II)” were quite strong, often moving, thoughtful, and hard-hitting. And even the weaker ones showed a welcome and appreciated attention to craft at the word and line level. Meanwhile, the thematic linkage of loss helped bind the collection together as a whole work rather than a random gathering of disparate works. It’s not my favorite collection of poetry out this year, but it’s still one to recommend.

Take Nothing With You by Sarah V. Schweig is the poet's first full-length collection of poetry. Schweig is also the author of the chapbook S from Dancing Girl Press. Her poetry and criticism have appeared in many journals. She is a graduate of the University of Virginia and Columbia University and currently lives in Brooklyn, New York.

There is definitely a New York quality to Shweig's writing. The city is the setting for most of the poems and is never too far away in the others. From the rooftops to the transit system the city is the star and it is limited only by the edge of the water.

Along the shore lie those who know there is no heaven, and no answer to our questions, and that ships leaving piers look like distant chandeliers.

Trains and the city present the backdrop to the poems. "Contingencies" reflects on graffiti and the juvenile delinquents who white out the graffiti of the Latin King. The “whiting” of the city is being done by black and latino children.

The poetry is modern in style, but not too complex. In "Rooms":

At the bottom of the ocean, unreached by waves of light, there is no weather. Instead (so I've heard), a perfect species of albino fish never comprehends the concept of Surface.
...
The storm rolled in the Blue Rain.
It snuffed out cadmium ends of cigarettes pointellating the cityscape, neon from the signs up and down Rain Street, and rising water erased eyes from every picture frame.

The reading is enjoyable. There are plenty of water and big city themes in the writing. Not from New York, but from a large city myself, I revel in the city life. Schweig captures the good, bad, and the need to occasionally escape it. There is a flow and feeling of connection throughout the collection. Nothing is perfect, for example, the flow of “Brighton Beach” is punctuated by the train stop announcements on the route to the beach. It’s the hustle and bustle of the city that creates a rhythm and pulse. Some of the poems delve into relationships with the saddest being “To A Daughter.” Others reflect the poet’s feelings and experiences. A well-rounded collection of poetry. Complex, but not over demanding, Schweig creates a personal relationship with the reader.

Book Review: Take Nothing With You by Sarah V Schweig  – vexingcircumstance
https://vexingcircumstance.wordpress.com/2016/08/11/book-review-take-nothing-with-you-by-sarah-v-schweig/

This is Schweig's first published collection, but she's put out a few chapbooks. I went looking for versions online to link to and found earlier versions of some in this book, particularly from section III. Huh, interesting, rewritten and reworked for this new publication.

One of the poems I liked the most (The Abandonment) became even more meaningful when I found she read it as a tribute to one of her teachers, Mark Strand, whose poetry I adore. Another poem FEELS like Mark Strand in its structure (the beginning of Shift).. it made me think of "Coming to This."

I like how Schweig plays with words (Sehnsucht, Schweig), but my favorites are those that contain conversations. Bloodwork, The Abandonment, Karma Academy. I also really loved the longer "Rooms," which probably has the most beautiful and thought-provoking turns of phrase.