Bloodroot, a plant with underground rhizomes which secretes red sap when cut, is a most appropriate trope for the expression of a wounded subjectivity that exudes pain and anger through memories of women’s dispossession of their bodies, their children and their dreams. Annemarie Ní Churreáin’s debut collection, Bloodroot, was written “as a form of revolt against the push and shove and thrust of a deeply patriarchal society” (“I Was Raised”). This explicit feminist statement should make us wary of siren songs about the advent of a postfeminist age in which women’s rights are no longer at issue since, as late as 2017, Bloodroot exposes the persistence of open wounds and inherited traumas inflicted by a patriarchy on women’s sexual and reproductive lives. Ní Churreáin’s book consists of three parts, the first of which contains the title poem, “Bloodroot”, with a dramatic monologue in which nobody seems to answer or even hear the poetic persona’s questions. Set at the Castlepollard Mother and Baby Home, the poem engages with the taboo around women’s socially inconvenient pregnancies – Doors if I stitch you a collar of lace   all Spring as I wait for the first-born heat   please,   won’t you open and speak? (24) Ní Churreáin writes polyphonic verse and thereby allows formerly silenced voices to be heard. The overt political denunciation of the Irish State’s repressive policies is not at odds with the poet’s craft. On the contrary, Ní Churreáin excels at the subtle blend of place, subjectivity and engagé poetry as she delves into “the relationship between landscape and lyrical control … between the place I physically come from and the State in which I, as a woman in Ireland today, now exist” (“I Was Raised”). A … Sigue leyendo Bloodroot