Caught
in the Grate: A Review of Loren Kleinman’s The
Dark Cave Between My Ribs
Reviewed
by Kimberly Pavlovich
Loren Kleinman’s poetry collection The Dark Cave Between My Ribs is
rightfully named. Dark and deeply personal, Kleinman’s poems tear the skin and
expose the beating heart underneath. Exploring themes such as loss, alcoholism,
rape, suicide, and love, her poems are fragments of a life that seem to
question the very word life. What does it mean to live after experiencing loss?
What does it mean to live while feeling dead on the inside? Is it possible to
start again? A quiet desperation is apparent in Kleinman’s poems. There is a sense
of waiting for one’s life to get better, to pick up the pieces and feel like a
whole person again. Kleinman writes with a powerful simplicity that lingers
with the reader afterward.
The poem “I Wanted to Be the Echo of the
World” captures the essence of the collection: Kleinman skillfully reveals the
emotional and physical vulnerability of not only the speaker, but the inherent
vulnerability of being human. The speaker has been raped, which built a barrier
between her and her intimate partner. The poem begins, “I break in the porcelain
of your hands.” The speaker feels physically broken, but also emotionally
shattered. She wants to say something, but is not able to (“I wanted to tell
you / that I’ve been raped”), she feels hopeless (“The walls never come up /
because they are gone”), and longs for the past (“I miss being a kid / playing
in the backyard”). She ends with the thought-provoking line, “In your hands, /
I’m the porcelain echo,” bringing the reader full circle. This last line also
stands on its own, exemplifying Kleinman’s writing style. Her effective use of
short stanzas is a common thread throughout many of the poems in the
collection. This technique allows each stanza or line to stand on its own as a
strong, individual glimpse of a story, causing the reader to pause and reflect.
In two different poems in The Dark Cave Between My Ribs Kleinman
effectively writes of loss. One short stanza that stood out in “Three Days
After Your Death” was, “Your face was rotting beneath the water. / You were
incomplete, / a snapshot of life caught in the grate, / a spark.” Kleinman’s image
of being “caught in the grate” captures the in-between quality one feels after
a loved one has passed; one can see the person is dead but there’s a barrier,
as if he/she is just out of reach. Another line, this one from “You Remember
Your Mother’s Suicide,” reads “You can hear her shaking / the puddles on the
sidewalk / with her loud laugh.” Kleinman’s use of images makes the loss come
to life. Her technique of second
person perspective allows the reader to put him/herself in the same position as
the speaker. The reader, too, can
hear the mother laugh and many may relate to the experience described. This
happy memory triggers grief for the speaker and as a result the reader can feel
what the speaker does.
While multiple poems address the same
theme successfully, others blend together -- the same ideas expressed the same
way using less vibrant language and leaning toward clichés. For example, the theme of lost love occurs throughout,
rendering it predictable. For instance, within “Dumb Drunk Love Poem,” the drunk
speaker hopes her lover will take her back and asks, “Where do I go now, love?
/ How do I come back from lost love?” In the poem “Fragments of Love,” the
Kleinman writes,
Wondering again,
about love,
the fragments it leaves behind:
coffee cups,
books,
pictures
In
“Last Night I Had a Crazy Dream about You,” Kleinman depicts a dream the speaker
had about her lover and writes, “I wanted you so much / and I couldn’t have
you.” These poems felt flat and repetitive. More concrete details would make
the ideas and emotions expressed leap off the page. For example, the lines, “coffee
cups, / books, / pictures” do not create vivid pictures or meaningful context. One
poem in which Kleinman more skillfully writes of lost love is “We Are Not Who
We Thought We’d Be.” Kleinman captures the speaker’s disappointment when love does
not meet her expectations, lamenting, “We still don’t hope / the other would
fill the spaces / between our fingers.” It is in these sorts of distinctive
lines where Kleinman’s voice comes through the strongest, making her collection
worthwhile especially for those seeking a companion for their process of coping
with tragedy.
***Kimberly Pavlovich is an English major at Endicott College. She edits and writes for the Endicott Review and hopes to pursue a career in the publishing field.
***Kimberly Pavlovich is an English major at Endicott College. She edits and writes for the Endicott Review and hopes to pursue a career in the publishing field.
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