"Lips remember no songs,
hands no rituals, all I have
are headache dreams.
The sea swells into a hurricane,
the land blackens into cancer,
lightning opens a heart
in the sky, like a boy opening
the window of a hot room
his mother died in."

many thanks to FSG books for so graciously giving me a digital copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

reading far district is like viewing a piece of contemporary art. you know it's beautiful. you know that it pulls at you. you just might not necessarily understand why until you've given yourself time to think about it, to process your feelings, to revisit it. even when i didn't understand something on my first pass, there would inevitably be lines that just resonated within me. will all readers find this book approachable? no, not at all. but this is a collection of poems that more than deserves the attention and work that it requires.

hutchinson and i are from incredibly different backgrounds — many his poems are steeped in this burning specificity that would be confusing ro me if not for the gripping and relentless imagery he provides alongside it. these poems build off one another, creating a connective tissue that fuses together culture, religion, philosophy, memory, learning, and longing. even despite so much turmoil, there's still so many instances of light to be found throughout. i learned so much, and i know i will remember so many aspects of this book due to the enduring beauty of hutchinson's writing.

In his book Blind Spot, Teju Cole mentions in one of the last pages the names of two poets, Derek Walcott and Ishion Hutchinson. My admiration of the poetry by Derek Walcott situates Walcott as my favorite poet. Seeing Hutchinson’s name, a poet new to me, in a book in the company of Walcott’s name, meant much to me.

Seeing this title, Far District, I pounced upon the book, which, according to publication history, seems to have made its initial appearance in Britain more than a decade ago as Hutchinson’s first published collection of poems. With what appears to be a growing interest in his work, it’s made its way to our shores, from Jamaica by way of Britain.

His early work shows influences in chosen forms, tone, and language of Derek Walcott. Harold Bloom wrote a book, Anxiety of Influence, about how strong poets rewrite, intentionally or not, the works of their precursors. So when I personally read Hutchinson’s poem, New World Frescoes, as a portrait of Derek Walcott, that’s not a bad thing.

Hutchinson also has his own themes based on his personal experiences: Jamaican island life through the eyes of a boy, the much older women in his household and out in the community who are emotionally and daringly bigger than the roles he perceived for women. In some poems he leaves the island and in other poems he is along in New York City. Other poems describe the people of his community after he returns home, having honed his poetic tools as a writer with new perspectives and deeper reading, his observations are more generous toward subject matter and his forms looser and less classical. I’m eager to read more of his poetry to see how his work has developed over the years.

Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux and NetGalley for an Advanced Readers Copy

I absolutely loved this poetry collection! Every poem resonated with me, full of depth, emotion, and beautifully crafted language. The author’s voice is distinct and powerful, weaving themes that touched my heart and mind. This is easily one of my favorite collections now, and I’m eager to read more from this incredible poet. Each verse felt intentional, and the flow of the book was seamless. I have no complaints—it’s truly a masterpiece. The author has quickly become a favorite of mine. Five stars, without hesitation!