A Rumpus Most Anticipated of 2019 Pick
"In poem after poem, there is raw emotion, straightforward storytelling, and unapologetic truth. The poems here read like scars...sometimes they are up-front and easily understood. Sometimes they show up sporting shattered lines or jump from one memory to the next, making you think of a bird that abruptly changes direction mid-flight after hearing a gunshot. That intimate feeling is hard to find, and Alyan offers it here in spades." –NPR
"Best exemplifies poetry’s hybridity...blends forms, tangles modes, travels through time and space and leaps from the intensely personal to the acerbically political...with scathing wit, fierce self-examination, and challenging syntax. Alyan takes great risks, drips her full, naked self onto the page, and inspires her readers to embrace and examine our gravest mistakes, for every part of ourselves is a piece of a complicated puzzle that we can’t — mustn’t — stop trying to solve."–Vulture, "4 Poetry Collections That Change the World"
"This is the stuff of life, the very essence of the poetic." –LitHub, "Most Anticipated Books of 2019"
"There exists, within her poems, the cacophony that pervades our most intimate of relationships, a glistering sheen covering even the most banal interactions. Her poems feel as familiar as the prayers we make up in our own minds, as we feverishly ask for that which we’re only just realizing that we want; they’re a quiet triumph, sacred and profane, and, most of all, grounded in humanity." –Nylon, "Best New Books"
"Alyan’s fourth book of poems arrives with the earnest ambition of a debut, but the care of a poet whose lines have earned their sentiment. Poems of sorrow and shame live next to verses of desire. The Twenty-Ninth Year
bursts with lamentations, hopes, fears, and a weary but wide faith." –The Millions, "Must Read Poetry"
"Searching...Alyan writes propulsively." –amNewYork, "5 New Standout Poetry Books"
"Alyan moves with grace and courage in her poems, especially in her bare descriptions of a battle with anorexia, the relationship between father and daughter, and the stark realizations she depicts of a young girl tugged between her family's past and a life of American fast food restaurants where she's told how she doesn't fit in. This is coming-of-age poetry from a voice that resists categorization." –Library Journal, starred review
“[A] truly stellar collection of poetry…. If the collection wants for anything, it’s that each poem offers only a glimpse or a moment, whereas the subject matter could sustain several more pages of vicious, gripping verse. Luckily, readers can dive into the rest of Alyan’s burgeoning oeuvre: another three books of poetry and a critically acclaimed novel, Salt Houses
(2017).”—Booklist, starred review
"The past never truly dies in this searing fourth collection from Alyan (Salt Houses
), it merely resurfaces in the form of battle scars and familial wounds. The Palestinian-American poet, novelist, and clinical psychologist weaves an ever-shifting narrative that chronicles the personal history that shapes and informs her present. The inheritance of displacement is pervasive, as Alyan describes, and her lines are prone to linger in the minds of readers just like the ghosts that haunt the work itself." –Publisher's Weekly, starred review
“Mapping a year of change, Hala Alyan uses wit, metaphor, and powerful imagery in this collection of deeply intimate and truth-telling poems. Her words brave through gender, love, marriage, family, and displacement. They unsettle the hyphen between Palestinian and American. These stunning poems endure the unendurable, illuminating both the powerlessness of pain and the relentless courage of love.
Listen for her lyrical heart: letters, prayers, and portraits. Listen for what overlooks and fires free.”–Aja Monet, author of My Mother Was a Freedom Fighter
“Early in The Twenty-Ninth Year
Hala Alyan asks, ‘See that eye? Ask it to love you.’ With this, she initiates us into one of the poet’s great questions—how do we, having sounded our murkiest most private psychic waters, still look on ourselves with compassion? How do we ask a sky, a god, a nation, a parent, or a lover to cherish us, knowing all they know about our myriad brilliant failings? ‘In the end, we remake love over and over’—this is the work. Alyan picks up the fragments of a broken past and reassembles them into a livable future made more dazzling for having known brokenness. This is poetry of the highest order.
”—Kaveh Akbar, author of Calling a Wolf a Wolf and Portrait of the Alcoholic
“Every twenty-nine years Saturn’s in the same position it was in when you were born, often leading to periods of wild flux, transition, and transformation. Hala Alyan’s new book renders in lyric form precisely this kind of reckoning. The Twenty-Ninth Year
leaps through time and geography cataloging and archiving snapshots of heartbreak, political violence and resistance, addiction, lust, betrayal, migration, and marriage. Lines such as, ‘exile knows his bones are 206 instruments’ will convince any living reader to immediately go get them tattooed to their ribs. This book is a tongue kiss between the sacred & the profane. This book's essential reading for anyone with a pulse in their veins
.” —sam sax, author of Madness and Bury It
“It’s a kind of heaven, The Twenty-Ninth Year, and a kind of hell.
When an ex-alcoholic, ex-anorexic breaks the piñata of self open, what falls to earth is mooncakes, sponge cake, lopsided cake, the prettiest cake, pommes frites, waffles, warm bread, donuts, donut peaches, plums, prickly pears, Seven persimmons, first carrot in snow, organic kale, a plate of lobster, a house whiskey on ice, cider, cocktails, wine
, and a halo of spaghetti
. The word love
appears 51 times. Drunk on language, feasting on experience, the poet eats her words without regret, in search of safety, in search of who she’ll be next
.”—Jennifer Tseng, author of Mayumi and the Sea of Happiness and The Passion of Woo and Isolde
“Hala Alyan's The Twenty-Ninth Year
dramatizes the long journey toward home in poems that vibrate with eros and suffering, with longing and despair. On the cusp of her thirtieth year, that modern marker of maturity, Alyan, like other courageous confessional poets, brings darkness to light: anorexia, alcoholism, addiction, self-loathing. Yet Alyan's is a poetry of radical hope: that we enter into our wounds in order to emerge from exile.
”—Philip Metres, author of Sand Opera and The Sound of Listening
"Hala Alyan’s The Twenty-Ninth Year
has the hodgepodge beauty and intimacy of a Japanese court poet’s pillow book and dazzles like a passport brimming with the stamps of many places. While her previous volume, Hijra
, was mythic, spare, and gorgeously imagistic, this new work has a glorious close-to-the-bone, cinéma-vérité feel; in depicting the rollercoaster ride of exile and nonstop adaptation to new worlds, the speaker is both a clear-eyed, freewheeling daughter of the Arab diaspora and an ecstatic, risk-taking celebrant of life.
" –Cyrus Cassells, author of The Gospel according to Wild Indigo and The Crossed-Out Swastika