The Forest of Sure Things is a far better place than here.

The title of Megan Snyder-Camp’s debut collection of poems, The Forest of Sure Things, is an enticing one. Released in August from Tupelo, Snyder-Camp’s collection is a stunning first book for this poet, who just this year received the Individual Artist Award from 4Culture.

The clever title suggests an alluring promise. Instead of simply being a metaphor, the collection of forty poems does in fact go to the Forest of Sure Things. Of the forest, Snyder-Camp writes:

In this place, children tear their hearts in half. / Let me explain.

The explanation that follows describes a place where the abundance of materials is so great, the residents sacrifice material possessions, and themselves, in order to understand and appreciate their wealth.

Snyder-Camp closes the poem encapsulating this idea of gaining through loss:

To love like this, half must rattle in its pit.

The forest is only one part of the over-arching narrative in the collection, which follows a family, unable to conceive. After they do finally have one child, their second is a stillborn.

The setting mirrors this traumatic contrast, opening in an idyllic seashore setting (where the Forest grows) then shifting to the mires of urban modernity. Meanwhile, the poems’ subject matter covers broad ground: moving from fisherman and grass fields to Google, the Spiegel Catalogue and Britney Spears.

However terrible, the stillborn is only one event in this brief examination of the family’s past. Their memories, if the stillbirth is any indication, are not always pleasant, but the poems are still wonderful to read.

From, “At the Visionary Art Museum”:

These boats break under the weight of the dust of the years it / takes to build them.

And from “Summer House”:

How did we soothe / each other with such carved hearts?

Read more after the jump.

Though it isn’t all hardship and strife in Forest (the descriptions of the seaside life are lively and force you to appreciate the phrase “razor clams”), the dialogue, nonetheless, questions whether the family does gain more after its loss.

While no specific conclusion is reached, this is an engaging approach to a poetry collection, one demonstrating Snyder-Camp’s excellent poetic voice and her ability to craft both calm and turbulent scenes in settings that feel physically present rather than words on the page.

Moreover it’s a read that encourages you to keep turning pages to find the answer to the question of loss, if only for yourself. 

Megan Snyder-Camp reads at Open Books on Tuesday, October 26 at 7:30pm.