This collection of poetry, published by Tightrope Books in 2010, explores the interplay of chronic illness, identity, sexuality and solitude. It won a Lambda Literary Award and the Gerald Lampert Award for best first book of poetry. See below for an excerpt.
“As meditations on illness, these are extraordinary—sad, undermining, and, sometimes, spiked with a sense of humour.” —Tim Lilburn
“There are the nights, yes, but in this startling debut collection ‘each day is a / thin steel catwalk of light’ and ‘the sun makes its arc across the mouth’ . . . Each word and image is freshly forged. The poems are smart, original, and daring, the footwork so assured that Anna Swanson dances with the future with no missteps. This is a strong new voice that reaffirms my faith in the heartbeat and vision that poetry can give us.” —Lorna Crozier
“ ‘Oh dear body,” Anna Swanson writes in her impressive debut collection, “How did we get here?” How indeed? Throughout The Nights Also, Swanson asks: What does it mean to be frail and human. What is illness? Health? Gender? Memory? Love? And though Swanson doesn’t (thank God) arrive at any definitive answers, her skill and delight in exploring life’s mysteries and complexities are palpable. These poems—intelligent, passionate, and beautifully executed—announce the arrival of a gifted poet, one I hope we’ll be hearing from for years to come.” —Patricia Young
“Anna Swanson’s The Nights Also is a collection of poetry that reads like a satisfying whole, as it charts the feelings and thoughts that a person struggling with illness faces. Illness, as Sontag has observed, can be a metaphor – but it can also be a fact – and here, the poet handles the difficult, potentially bathetic subject matter expertly. At times lyrical, at times experimental, the poetry veers between comedy and philosophy, finding a powerful voice for truth-telling. The opening poem is beautiful, as is the last. In ‘Any Meaning’ she asks: “If illness was a child, will everyone ever love it enough?”. We found this collection exceptionally well-structured, with a moving, striking style – an impressive, humane debut.” — Judges’ comments for the Gerald Lampert Award
Buy the book
Usually I’d suggest buying the book at an independent bookstore near you. However, since the book is out of print, you can try a used bookstore or Abe Books
Borrow at a library
I’m a librarian. I’d be thrilled if you borrowed the book at your local library. If they don’t have it (or any book you want), you can request they purchase it.
Media
Poet garners two awards for first effort, Vancouver Sun, August 12, 2011
Featured Poet: Anna Swanson, Eyewear Blog, June 17, 2011
Lowther, Lampert Winners Announced, Quill and Quire, June 14, 2011
Winners of the Pat Lowther & Gerald Lampert Memorial Awards Announced, Open Book Toronto, June 14, 2011
Canadians Honoured At Lambda Awards, The Book Buzz, Toronto Public Library’s Virtual Book Club, June 2, 2011
Canadians clean up at the Lambdas, Xtra! May 31, 2011
Canadian authors celebrated at the Lambda Awards, Quill & Quire May 27, 2011
First books of poems make fresh tracks, Winnipeg Free Press January 29, 2011
Excerpt From The Nights Also
Shirt Collar
You’re standing by the mirror,
and I watch your fingers
slip cufflinks through buttonholes.
Your shoulders ease back,
as if the world finally had room for them,
as if your skin fit differently
under this shirt. Your small breasts
press out, unexpected
in these starched folds.
For you I would learn
the forgotten motions of my father’s hands,
the foreign ritual of folding a tie
in on itself, anything
for an excuse to reach behind your neck,
slide my fingers up under your shirt collar,
that sharp cool crease.
~
When women were clouds
Back before control top pantyhose,
before the notion of too much woman—
when women were clouds,
we were consulted about everything.
We decided when the ships would sail and if
they would arrive. Men blamed their wet dreams
on the fog. Everyone sketched out secret plans
for a flying machine. It was a good time,
all in all, when women were clouds.
The rain never tasted better. We got more
airtime on the radio and there were many
and better words for women
who put out.
~
The nights also
Not only the lake like this, not only the low sun cutting the mist, and those three smooth ripples each side of the silent bow
but the nights also
Not only the microphone, the acceptance letter, the applause, the wide place past the treeline where we finally understand why we’ve come all this way
Not only the life we claim on our tax returns, not only the breakroom gossip, the lost umbrellas, the small triumphs of public transit
Not only the dreams we fortress with sandbags of will
Not only the ways we touch each other in public
Not only what we hang on the wall, what we polish for the in-laws, what we sort, schedule, tabulate, catalogue, and account for
Not only what we understand
~
Anna Swanson 