A review by Tiziano Thomas Dossena
Reading Maria Giura’s poems, I was surprised to feel a strong connection to many of them. It was as if I had gone through a similar childhood and adolescence. Naturally, since I lived in Italy until I was sixteen, that seemed impossible. It took me some time to realize that her poetry is so powerful that it moved me emotionally, helping me recognize places and times I hadn’t experienced but only felt through her words.
It is what poetry should do, after all. Make you feel what the poet felt, and ‘If We Still Lived Where I Was Born’ does just that, and masterfully.
The poem that gives this poetry collection its title is especially powerful, depicting a “what if” scenario that places Maria at the house where she was born and illustrating the poet’s youth with few descriptive strokes. Nostalgia at its strongest, with a touch of sweetness that evokes tenderness. The understanding that a home often marks one’s significant life events, and that moving away might lead to further changes, is presented as a mystical revelation.
‘My Parents Long Ago’ shows how a small act, like someone framing an old picture, can bring a feeling of pure joy to another person:
My Parents Long Ago
In this picture,
my mother and father
no more than eighteen and twenty-two
stand in the center
no space between them,
surrounded by family.
She’s wearing a jumper dress
and he a tie and vest,
his head playfully tilted toward her
his arm so far around her shoulder,
it almost drapes her elbow.
She’s standing straight,
head held model-high,
class ring on the hand she rests
on her grandmother
who sits in front of her.
Next to my parents, my grandparents—
my grandfather,
also an Anthony,
with the same vest and tilt
and my grandmother
looking into the camera
with a smile that grows inside her,
her parents here, in her house—
my great grandparents
who want to return to Sicily,
but for now, fold their hands on the table
like sweet school children.
Everyone else is smiling,
teeth like pearls in black and white,
my mother’s aunt and brother-in-law,
a small niece and nephew.
Even Padre Pio,
the saint with the stigmata,
framed on the wall behind them
glows.
Five decades later,
my mother frames this picture
puts it on her desk
even though she and my father
divorced so many years before,
married other people.
I know it’s a moment
that’s locked forever,
but I want to climb inside
and turn the key.
The poem’s core message is the importance of accepting that some people remain a significant part of our lives even after they are gone, for whatever reason. The gesture may have stemmed from the mother’s nostalgia for years gone by, but its effect is to place the other parent in the daughter’s desired spot and bring an extreme sensation of joy.
‘First Bedroom’ also evokes her youth, but it carries an intensely bitter undertone. It recalls her first bedroom, which should have been sweet, yet is spoiled by the memory of her father’s attempt to enter the house after being sent away by her mother:
… One night, I was not yet nine,
Papa appeared at our window
trying to get back in the house
after our mother had locked him out again.
Julie was sleeping soundly
even though I called her name
though maybe not loud enough,
afraid she wouldn’t be able
to send him away. I didn’t want to either,
but I knew our mother was right. …
The pain of a child going through their parents’ divorce is clearly expressed here in simple but direct language: whether they like it or not, the child must choose what they believe is right and stand by their actions, no matter how much it hurts.
‘Driving North on 287’ also addresses a very sensitive subject: the absurdity of a society where a young man would choose to take his own life rather than come out to his parents as gay. The poem refers specifically to the case of Tyler Clementi, and it is neither judgmental toward the parents nor explicitly calls for societal change; instead, it shows deep empathy for the young man:
… I wish I could have spoken to him
for just a little while
taken his face into my hands,
tried to convince him he’s eternally loved.
This sensitive, accomplished soul
who, eight days from now,
would have turned thirty,
was so afraid, so ashamed,
he plunged 200 feet
rather than face his parents,
rather than face this world.
Among the many meaningful and charming poems in this collection, I believe one more deserves extra attention: ‘I Come from a Long Line of Workers’. The poem is straightforward and flows almost like a curriculum vitae of her family, but it does so with conviction and grace, concluding with these verses:
… I come from a long line of workers
both parents still teaching me
how to make something that wasn’t there before,
how to give it all away.
“Sunday” is another poem that will resonate with many readers, not only because of its beautiful depiction of a Sunday dinner but also because of the shared feelings it may evoke while reading. The simple yet effective description of the atmosphere: …espresso served in doll-sized cups, / and Mario Lanza and Sergio Bruni / singing in our stereo. … is only rivaled by the candor of the closing verses.
… If I close my eyes, I see those Sundays
were another Mass, another eucharist
—a glimpse of the banquet to come. …
The poet expresses her faith and love as one spiritual entity, and it is dramatically effective.
The book is divided into three sections, and I decided to discuss only the first one because it resonated with me personally, not because the other poems were any less powerful.
There are 13 poems in the first section of this book, and all of them evoked strong emotions in me. I only offer a brief glimpse of my feedback here because a proper-length review would require a different platform, such as a literary magazine.
While reading this poetry collection, I relived some of my years in Brooklyn as a young man, the Sunday dinners at my Italian American friends’ homes, and my marvel at the differences in their customs (I was a new immigrant then).
‘Manhattan Beach’ brought back memories of my early days in the USA, when visiting that beach was the only break I had, as I was busy with schoolwork and learning a new language. I thank the poet for letting me experience that.
I believe that ‘If We Still Lived Where I Was Born’ is a powerful book that will significantly influence readers and the literary community.
Useful Links to Maria Giura’s literary work:
