The Sun and Her Flowers – Rupi Kaur
As I’ve started to read more poetry, I’ve noticed a few themes that make (or break) a collection for me: unique voice and perspective, fresh take on established themes and accessibility for novice readers.
Rupi Kaur hit the mark on all fronts with her second collection, and I almost designated this a five-star reader before finding the last two chapters (out of five total) repetitive in theme, structure and idea.
In the authors’ note, Kaur said “Flowers” is a “collection of poetry about grief, self-abandonment, honoring one’s roots, love and empowering oneself.”
The universality of these topics is what makes this a poetry collection for people who don’t think they enjoy poetry. It’s one I can see recommending to friends and family, especially my niece as she prepares for college.
This was a blind read for me, meaning I didn’t know anything about Kaur before going in. I understand now that she’s a somewhat divisive wunderkind who has received criticism for perceived exploitation of South Asian culture and referring to short musings or platitudes as “poetry.”
I’d say — ignore the headlines and experience her work for yourself. I read poetry primarily to reflect, and whether the poem is two sentences or 200, if it makes you think, the writer did their job.
There were multiple times when reading that I was astounded by her observations and moved by her descriptions. Those that stand out are discussions about her mother, how she processed the aftermath of a sexual assault and addressed self-hatred.
The brief “poems” and corresponding animation make this a quick read and it’s worth the time. I loved the way she used the title — always placed at the end — to emphasize the theme or key takeaway. In many ways this made the collection feel lyrical, in that you could easily add music and make it a song.
The highlights were each of the longer form essay/poems, each designated with a border, that explored — in pointed and raw prose — the collection’s themes: the end of a relationship in “What Love Looks Like” and “Questions”; recovering from sexual assault in “Home”; the sexualization of young girls/women in “The Art of Growing”; and immigration and acclimation in “Broken English.”
There were so many poems and phrases that resonated — I highlighted about 30 passages — but here’s a few must reads:
“The Underrated Heartache” – about how the end of a friendship can hurt as much as the ending of a romantic relationship
“How Can I Verbalize Consent As An Adult If I was Never Taught To As A Child” – a thought-provoking take on how we raise women, and the dangers in agreement – perceived or forced.
“Hysterectomy February 2016” – I will never think about a womb the same way again.
“Advice I Would’ve Given My Mother On Her Wedding Day” – Kaur frequently discusses her parents’ arranged marriage and strict adherence to cultural norms. Here, she helps her right wrongs from her past.
“Female Infanticide/Female Feticid” – chilling historical context to an ongoing problem in India and Indian communities.
“Checklist” – an attempt to see into the future at the beginning of a relationship
While some aspects of the collection skew younger — I probably would’ve considered it gospel in my twenties — there’s enough here to reaffirm or challenge readers of all ages. Without hesitation I would read another collection by Kaur.
Rating (story): 4/5 stars
Rating (narration): N/A
Formats: eBook (personal library)
Dates read: May 21 – May 24, 2022
Multi-tasking: N/A
