Rain in Our Door: Duets with Robert Johnson

(Paperback)

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In a series of "call and responses" whose various narrators engage in what might be called duets with Robert Johnson. With the refreshing and uncanny empathy for which she is admired and respected as a critic and poet, Blakely offers a fresh attention to Johnson's music (her poems take their titles from his extraordinary compositions) in relation to her own abiding concerns with what she once called, in an essay about Eleanor Ross Taylor, "oh, dear God, let us outgrow those terms of race, class, and gender, but for now they're what we've gotthe hand life deals us."

Reviews

Caviarethe kind made from blackeyed peas, of courseto the general, these poems! Richard Howard [In these duets,] I feel a fearlessness, a nakedness, at once breathtaking and courageous. In that may lie the secret, should there be one: to discover, to pursue, that which compels us, galvanizes, obsesses. Herbert Morris With the refreshing and uncanny empathy for which she is admired and respected as a critic and poet, Blakely offers a fresh attention to Johnsons music (her poems take their titles from his extraordinary compositions), . . . allowing the various, often contradictory cries of mothers, fathers, sons, daughtersacross time, race, art form, and cultureto erupt through her own. Lisa Russ Spaar,Arts & Academe,Chronicle of Higher Education For years, Blakely has written what she calls duets with Robert Johnson: her poems visiting his songs, his songs breathing in her poems. [In Dead Shrimp Blues, with comment by Spaar], she has Tennessee Williams and Maggie fromCat on a Hot Tin Roofcross paths with the blues singer in Clarksdale, Mississippi, so she can address him directly, circling around the imagery in one of at least two Johnson songs built around a metaphor for impotence. She writes like a window-peeper: Ill undress / Down to my humid white-girl slip. Spaar follows the way Blakelys words curl around Johnsons until it can seem as if Johnsons are curling around hers; she rescues the phrase posted out from the murk of Johnsons song so you can hear it crack in Blakelys. Greil Marcus, Real Life Rock Top Ten,The Believer "She believed inle mot juste, in measure and music, was a master of the sonnet and villanelle, but also experimented with a longer, wilder line and worked for many years on a still unpublished book,Rain in Our Door: Duets with Robert Johnson, which may well prove the ultimate white southerners poem that attempts to cross the great racial divide, join the chamber band to the blues ensemble, and, in a direct political sense, enact an aesthetic and cultural unity." RodneyJones

Author Bio

Diann Blakely(June 1, 1957 - August 5, 2014) was an American poet, essayist, editor, and critic. Her poetry collectionLost Addresses: New and Selected Poems was published by Salmon Poetry in 2017, andEach Fugitive Moment: Essays, Memoirs, and Elegies on Lynda Hullis forthcoming from MadHat Press.