Showing posts with label Sophia Magliocca. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sophia Magliocca. Show all posts

Sunday, October 1, 2023

Sophia Magliocca : A Few Notes on Girl gives long-fingered self-portrait

 

 

 

Girl gives long-fingered self-portrait has known many different and smaller lives before. I first began putting together this chapbook four years ago; in it’s earliest draft this chapbook was a collection of sonnets which I called In Gioventù (in youth). Written mostly during my honours creative writing workshop, after graduation I recognized that I couldn’t keep up the slightly tortured momentum those early sonnets required of me.

Here’s a poem from that first sonnet collection originally published by Montreal Writes

Somebody Elseby The 1975: Up Next

Midnight city, chocolate lit, hopeless romantic,
Borderline July, the sound of night mistakes.
Settle down. We met alone, Paris. Hes American.
Sucked the blood out my gums for dinner.
Electric feel. Chlorine. I came out for a good cry.
Cradled his tongue behind my ear for sex. He said
Give yourself a try Cinnamon Girl. Sit next to me.
Kept rubbing me down with that metal handle.
Destroying my bed peace with good morning.
Before he left, took the neighbourhood robbers
For a run around my Daddy issues.
Pumped up strangers slow dance, dont worry.
Hes danger. Hes reckless. Hes restless.
Sincerity is scary but he felt like home.

As a whole, these poems were boldly lustful and adventurous escapades of another life, and while the voice of those poems no longer felt authentic there is no denying that bits and pieces of that ‘girl’ from the sonnets kept calling me back.

Fast forward a few years, I joined a writing group hosted by the talented Sarah Burgoyne. As a group we met every Tuesday for two months with the unified goal of writing a chapbook. While I had little hope that I’d successfully complete this project I started 3 and a half years ago, I knew that I owed it to myself enough to invest time in my poetry — something that grad school was slowly stealing from me. While I didn’t entirely know how I wanted this chapbook to end, I knew where I wanted it to start: with the ever elusive “I”.

To those of you who know me personally, you’ll notice the cameos in this collection: the names of family members, my favourite bar, anecdotes of good times past, hobbies, street names, regrets, traditions and more.

Although it would be dishonest to admit that I am the “I” in Girl, I can confess that she is at once an exaggeration and oversimplification of myself— a warped mirror of my best and worst qualities, my greatest loves and anxieties. In many ways, I like to think of Girl as a mosaic of the best lines Ive written since 2017, though until I was halfway through that’s all it really was. That is, until the narrator began to recognize herself as a part of another. As the author, I realized how crucial a commitment to fleshing out a matrilineal line was to Girl— how the women before her are a part of the “I” she can no longer ignore. When I started to write about motherhood as part of the self, these poems revealed to me how simple words like “selfish,” “arrhythmia,” and “daughter” could carry tremendous weight. Written to read effortlessly as a confessional, finding authenticity in the narration of Girl was largely an adventure in maturity.

As a final homage to the years of unpublished work that influenced, but never made it’s way into Girl, the title Gives long-fingered self-portrait is a riff on an old verse of poetry I wrote many years ago:

the neighbouring branches press up against the house
long-fingered tip-toeing around the swollen glass

While the narrator of this chapbook might begin by tiptoeing around herself, by the end of the collection she takes back the body and becomes the house.

 

 

 

 

Sophia Magliocca is a Master’s student in English Literature at Concordia University (Tiohtià:ke/ Montreal) where she researches the effects of (mis)interpreting how women's legacies are documented across literary history. Sophia is a known lover of travel, pasta and orange cats. Most recently she has published poetry in Canadian literary journals such as Yolk, Montreal Writes and periodicities: a journal of poetry and poetics. In 2023 Sophia published her debut chapbook Girl gives long-fingered self-portrait with above/ground press. Find her on Instagram @sophmagli

Wednesday, August 2, 2023

Sophia Magliocca : a poem

 

The Book of Repulsive Women
                    
   
Elusive

i.

pale body
hard thighs

star-light as you are

your short arms

         
ear

         
lace

       
   lip

cool to feel ripe

soaked           skin

                     
rain
                      face   half strangled
sprawling over the sharp of grass

lean and coil across

into the damp madness of woman

 

ii.

strain out of space
musician in heat

call this soft spot guilt

your mouth spins loose
sharp cries

shout modern babylon

look up

vague blue veins
bulging beast

I mean breast

 

iii.

more plunging under
spin into your mother’s tablecloth

call this a game trickster

         
draw a card
another upside-down naked woman 

                              
spoiled
soft and still dewy

tongue dancing on cheek

 

iv.

roll out of town
cross meekly in the streets

use fast feet

window-shop chinaware

                    
  upturned vacant rooms
swear her eyes bloom into gold

pray words won’t break it off

confess her dress to dirty sheets 

at the stairs disperse

curse out through an open door

Think of a woman
                    
       at the playground
                                 on the balcony of an old castle
                                 knee deep in a puddle
                                 swimming on a beach somewhere
                                 storing snails in a pail
                                 flying overhead
                                             light
                        strong

                                        
    by the chimney
                        occasionally

                       
out of sight

 
                                 tuned

                                        
    to golden hour
                                               a wind song in the hymn of girl
                                          fleshy clapping
                                               six rings of a small bell
                                               an earworm
                                               a chime echoing east
                                  soiled 
                              
          on the other side of the road
                                         covered by a crowd
                                         at the backend of a rotting shed
                                         by the underside of an overpass
                                                      a lily

 

 

 

 

Sophia Magliocca is a Master’s student in English Literature at Concordia University (Tiohtià:ke/ Montreal) where she researches the effects of (mis)interpreting how women's legacies are documented across literary history. Sophia is a known lover of travel, pasta and orange cats. Most recently she has published poetry in Canadian literary journals such as Yolk and Montreal Writes. Her debut chapbook Girl gives long-fingered self-portrait is forthcoming this month with above/ground press. Find her on Instagram @sophmagli

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