{"id":38223,"date":"2017-07-02T09:11:44","date_gmt":"2017-07-02T15:11:44","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/?p=38223"},"modified":"2025-11-12T08:20:40","modified_gmt":"2025-11-12T15:20:40","slug":"enter-it-singing-star-coulbrookes-thin-spines-of-memory","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/enter-it-singing-star-coulbrookes-thin-spines-of-memory\/","title":{"rendered":"Enter It Singing: Star Coulbrooke\u2019s Thin Spines of Memory"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\"\"Thin Spines of Memory<\/em>\u00a0seems to me to be less an autobiographical work than a poetic discourse on the role of the past and recollection in every human life, any human life. Hers as author. Yours and mine as readers. And to the extent that poet Star Coulbrooke peels back the leaves of\u00a0her\u00a0<\/em>experience to reveal the seeds of\u00a0human\u00a0<\/em>experience, she distinguishes herself \u2014 quietly and generously \u2014 as a great poet.<\/p>\n

As a good poet, she weaves consistent, sensual images into experiential meaning, and with language, she transcends the limits of language.\u00a0 Fair or not, I expected that in this collection of 25 poems. But as that rare jewel \u2013 a great poet \u2013 she presents herself and her work as entirely authentic.\u00a0 Exquisitely humble.\u00a0 Unsentimental.\u00a0 Unrelenting.\u00a0 Unselfconscious. She guides us through a world most of us have difficulty navigating alone \u2013 the world of memory. She offers companionship, but no protection from its dangers. \u201cMemory,\u201d she writes in \u201cEarly Death,\u201d \u201cnot the fear of dying, holds us back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Coulbrooke\u2019s memory lane is a walk from past to present through experience, and there is no suggestion that we can go back, that any part of our past will ever exist beyond the moment when we experience it. She is clear in \u201cFoothold at Winter\u2019s Edge,\u201d\u00a0<\/em>that even as we near the end of our lives, we are inexplicably surprised by the passage of time. \u201c[A]stounding,\u201d she writes,<\/p>\n

\u2026 to think of half a century
\nhere between us, time pushing down
\non our bones, deceptively fragile<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And she goes on to remind us that\u00a0 there is perhaps no choice and certainly no reason to go anywhere but forward. She models for us, in \u201cRecessional,\u201d<\/em>\u00a0a joyful journey into that unknown:<\/p>\n

Beautiful dreamer, sleep on. Fear
\nis only a passing thing, no more
\nthan a memory \u2026
\nnot premonition, but visitation.
\nEnter it singing.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Coulbrooke\u2019s memory lane is a path through common ground. That is where she shines her light \u2013 upon the way and not upon herself.\u00a0 And the way is complicated, often warm, sweet and melodic, but nonetheless, a journey of losses. In \u201cRiver Once Removed,\u201d she writes,<\/p>\n

Gone, the old swimming hole
\nwhere the river bent and split
\nfor an island of trees \u2026<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Then, in that same poem, she remembers for us, constructing the memory that helped her to navigate that lost landscape:<\/p>\n

\u2026I constructed
\nmy island, the moss, the grass, the rocks
\nall around, the places I cushioned the roar,
\nthe necessary hardness.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

If she suggests that clinging to the ways and whats of childhood is a fool\u2019s errand, she reminds us that we have advance notice of the inevitable, and change isn\u2019t really a surprise. She writes in \u201cBefore the Dam,\u201dthe book\u2019s opening poem,\u00a0\u201c<\/em>Already what we knew was vanishing,\/all but the bravest of birds and furred souls.\u201d The harsh truth, it seems, is only as harsh as our resistance to it.<\/p>\n

Beginning to end, there seems to be no search for truth going on here. Memory as the poet presents it to us, is restricted to the body. It is a sensual recollection entirely without applied meaning. In the vitality of the present, if we are to become authentic and therefore happy, we are obligated to give it meaning and then grow the meaning until forgiveness allows us to let the past go, and our stories with it. In \u201cFamily Reunion,\u201d she writes,<\/p>\n

Here we are, family
\nconnected by blood, law,
\nadoption, but long-estranged
\n\u2026
\nHere we are strangers
\ntogether as family again,
\nlearning what to forgive.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

When it comes to looking back, Coulbrooke seems to have little respect for excessive nostalgia. But if she offers her readers hard reality, she also reminds us that the reality of passing time, our loss of innocence, is hopeful, anticipated every step of the way, exciting in its prospects. She reminds us that in our very bones we look forward to our future, to breaking the bonds of childhood. \u00a0In \u201cHungry For It,\u201d<\/em>\u00a0we find this:\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n


\n<\/em>Outside in the darkness their children
\nplay hard against the call of night,
\nwild as fireflies, hungry for the meat of
\nsomething more,
\nsomething they can\u2019t name,
\nsomething hot, red, and sweet.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

At the book launch of\u00a0Thin Spines of Memory<\/em>\u00a0on April 30, 2017, Coulbrooke, the Poet Laureate of Logan, held a charmed audience in the palm of her hand on the top floor of the Bluebird Diner while she explained that her book was an intended gift to her community. And so it is. On the surface, her poems are autobiographical, a memoir.\u00a0 But for the sake of her reader \u2013 who seems ever foremost in her mind \u2013 she seems to have done all the hard work. She has explored and marked the deep gorge of memory. She offers no less than herself as guide.<\/p>\n

With her as my guide, I enter the world of the past and memory in any life \u2026 in her life \u2026 in my life \u2026 in yours. It is a sensation-rich world. It is where experience defines us, and later, applied meaning propels us. We revisit our imaginary pasts, it seems, until we understand we have outgrown them, that there\u2019s no going back.<\/p>\n

In \u201cOn The River,\u201d Star Coulbrooke describes memory as<\/p>\n

That river,
\nthe one I grew up
\ndrowning in.<\/p>\n

That river
\nI went down to
\nlike religion,<\/p>\n

the one I come back to
\ngasping
\nfor all it cannot hold.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And with those lines, she sets us free to embrace our real, vital and oh-so-present selves.<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

SNAG
\nby Star Coulbrooke<\/em><\/p>\n

Step out of the river
\ninto a prickly pear forest
\nbait cans and spines
\nold rotted line strung from junipers
\nending in sinkers and spinners.
\nOver the beach fish bones
\nmaggoty carcasses
\nthe bright flash of a lost lure.
\nHope crowds up
\nshedding its clothes
\nwhere girls and boys
\njumped into rapids
\ndrifted together
\nas if drawn by fishing line.
\nOut of the stickers
\nour lure shines
\nhot sand wet skin
\nnerve endings afire
\nwith invisible prickles
\nhair-thin spines of memory.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

#<\/p>\n

Thin Spines of Memory<\/em>
\nStar Coulbrooke
\nHelicon West Press<\/a>
\n2017
\n52 pp
\n$10.00<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Thin Spines of Memory\u00a0seems to me to be less an autobiographical work than a poetic discourse on the role of the past and recollection in every human life, any human life. Hers as author. Yours and mine as readers. And to the extent that poet Star Coulbrooke peels […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1610,"featured_media":38224,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_piecal_is_event":false,"_piecal_start_date":"","_piecal_end_date":"","_piecal_is_allday":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2589,35],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-38223","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-reviews-literary-arts","category-literary-arts"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/09\/Thin-Spines-Cover.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"publishpress_future_action":{"enabled":false,"date":"2026-06-19 19:34:37","action":"change-status","newStatus":"draft","terms":[],"taxonomy":"category","extraData":[]},"publishpress_future_workflow_manual_trigger":{"enabledWorkflows":[]},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/38223","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1610"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=38223"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/38223\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":98508,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/38223\/revisions\/98508"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/38224"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=38223"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=38223"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artistsofutah.org\/15Bytes\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=38223"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}