August 22, 2022
Reid mixes memoir, poetry, and close reading in her innovative debut. She opens with a startling account of her neighbor’s murder at the hands of police, which takes place as she drafts a college paper on Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved. Reid moves through scenes of violence, love, and longing, most of which are narrated in verse or dialogue between her and various figures. Along the way, Reid weaves in stories from Greek mythology (“We were talking about Narcissus because she was calling me narcissistic and so I wanted to like respond and explain the math of that”), commentary on American politics (“Americans don’t know anything outside of America”), and reflections on how Morrison’s work has informed her life (“Beloved has shown me, I’m not an/ argument/ conclusion-type; however, I still check my body/ mother/ neighborhood for bullet wounds”). Photos of Reid’s personal copy of Morrison’s novel punctuate the book-length essay. Both poetic and blunt, Reid covers the stark contrast as well as the connections between her life as a reader and student of literature, and the harsh realities of American life—it makes for an illuminating record of a mind fascinated by literature in a world of violence. This original essay marks Reid as a writer to watch.
July 15, 2022
Reticular literary criticism folded into biting vignettes of the author's present studies and life. In fewer than 7,500 words, debut author Reid attempts to connect a slippery range of narrative elements: her read on the character Denver in Toni Morrison's Beloved as "vampiric" and "an image of queer futurity"; the alleged madness of Medea and related trope of the "crazy" woman; the tragic history of Margaret Garner, "The Modern Medea," who was killed in 1856 and served as an inspiration for Beloved; the 2016 police killing of Reid's so-called "crazy" Bronx neighbor Deborah Danner; "clips of conversations"; myriad metaphors; and more. Reid's style is experimental, poetic, and confident, while her tone connotes exhaustion. She includes photographs from works she has studied, including Beloved and Anne Carson's preface to Grief Lessons and translation of Medea. These images are most notable for Reid's extensive markings and notes, which are, by turns, striking, personal, cogent, illegible, and incisive. At the beginning of the 21st chapter of Beloved--the first one narrated by Denver--Reid has scrawled in the margins, among other thoughts, "*A vampire has to be invited in, let the romance novels tell it. like love. like romantic period [1800-1850] for white men the belief that imagination is all." In an artful section of stream-of-consciousness writing, the author notes, "this language will never be / stationary." Much of the dialogue, without quotation marks, reads like a text-message exchange, and much of the book is not easy to follow. Therein lies its vulnerability as well as its particular strength. This is a provocative work that defies categorization, making it a tough sell for general readers. "The first thing you learn," writes Reid, "in the studies of White Gods / Classics / Authorities, is that tragedies are for men." Throughout, the author's often moving poetry and prose resonate with rhythmic echoes, whether examining classic prose or ruminating on the lyrics of hip-hop icons N.W.A. A boundary-pushing book-length essay perfectly suited to literary scholars.
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