A few weeks ago I got into the bath with this book of poems, Emily Berry's second collection. Focused on the death of her mother, and the complicated feelings Berry has about her in life and in death, the poems in this collection are tight and occasionally austere. They are also rain-drenched, soaked, communing with the tides. When they break wide open, so do you. My point is that you may as well read this in the bath as I did, because you will cry.
The loss of a mother must be something very strange, observed Sigmund Freud, a reflection that haunts this intense and powerful new book. Stranger, Baby is Emily Berry's second collection of poetry. These poems are filled with fantasy and play, estrangement, and edgy humor. Love, anger, tenderness and violence all find expression in poems powered by grief's tidal undertow. This is a book of mourning, recrimination, exhilaration, and oceanic feeling, where familiarity meets strangeness and despair becomes a kind of celebration.
About the Author
Emily Berry's first book of poems Dear Boy, won the Forward Prize for Best First Collection and the Hawthornden Prize. She is a contributor to The Breakfast Bible (a compendium of breakfasts) and editor of Best British Poetry 2015 (Salt Publishing). She is the editor of The Poetry Review.