At a time when the right to abortion is increasingly questioned throughout America comes the moving collection of Charlotte Francœur. His poems move on the thin line separating the umbilical cord from the noose in a “womb gone empty”.
The crustaceans in the title are embryos that will be prevented from seeing the light of day. The book bears all the pain of this choice which is not always one. After Yesterday is a violence, the poet continues to assert herself and to denounce, unlike the women of her family who remain silent.
A great sadness runs through the poems. The narrator sometimes dreams of never waking up again. Haunted by the heartbreak that comes with the freedom to choose, she confided: “mourning fills my body”. She saw shame, anger, loneliness. How could it be otherwise?
At the same time, this narrative poetry escapes collapse by continuing to follow a fragile path. At first, there’s this almost playful tone that describes “fantasy vanished.” Then, a light seeps in here and there, supported by an unsuspected force. To say “goodbye” is to move on, to move on. Another loving body exists, his own.
“I would like the river to be a woman/I would like to say/I am fleeing/towards her”
Only poetry can transport us so deeply into feminine intimacy without becoming immodest, without making us embarrassed voyeurs. This open-hearted and open-bodied book vibrates and stirs us. He gives himself generously in sharing. Impossible not to welcome it with openness and gratitude.
