Joy is the justice we give ourselves

Poet, wildlife biologist, birder, professor, and MacArthur fellow Lanham (Sparrow Envy, 2021) extends his clarion exploration of nature, race, place, and birding in a collection of poems and short prose pieces inspired by his grandmother's ability to find joy in a cruel world and a spiritual she sang. As for himself, he writes, "wildness is at the center of my joy." He shares revelations born of deep immersions in the wild, describing birds with particular avidity. In the incandescent title poem, a veritable anthem, the poet reflects on Black lives and contrasts human constructs with nature's freedom and glory. For Lanham the sacred is earthly--"Joy is the paradise / we can claim / right here, / right now."--even as he offers this chilling definition: "Joy is the morning jog / without being hunted down." Lanham decries class and racial divides in the birding world, evokes a spectrum of beauty in a salt marsh, at sunrise and sunset, and on his own South Carolina property where a robin is "run-stopping." He also dispenses advice, as in "Fifteen Rules for Better Being." Lanham is warmly contemplative, righteous, incensed, funny, and grateful. His poetics, knowledge, and dissent run deep; his poems are winged.

Another luminous mixture of prose and poetry from Lanham. "Miracles occur by evolutionary adaptation and seasonal migration," writes Lanham, author of Sparrow Envy and The Home Place. On the same page, the author acknowledges that "people die by the police because their Black lives don't matter." The power of this book is in how well it holds the duality of these truths. We see that the pain created by humanity does not necessarily negate the beauty. Early on, he writes, "Be advised, every poem isn't an ode to joy, and yes, sometimes there is sadness, or anger within the words." Lanham is masterful at showing how, despite the struggles of climate change, war, and racism, among other societal ills, joy is present, and choosing to pursue delight in the face of injustice is a brave act. Throughout the book, the author excavates and elevates that joy. "Joy is the justice / we give ourselves. It is Maya's caged bird / sung free past the prison bars," he proclaims in the titular poem, demonstrating how the expression of that joy becomes a radical, even subversive act. In lush, sensuous prose, Lanham pursues joy in the backyard, with blackbirds "murmurating in an orange evening sky," and in witnessing seasonal change. The author is both a naturalist and an agent of social justice, and this book is at its most poignant when these two meet, as in "Nine New Revelations for the Black Bird-Watcher": "No one denies the eye-bending beauty of a painted bunting by saying, 'I don't see color'"; "Why are some immigrants accepted and others not? Asking for a European starling." With his consistently engaging writing, keen eye, and generosity of spirit, Lanham is a writer to whom we should all listen closely. Lanham memorably, vibrantly shows how choosing joy is an act of resilience, courage, and power. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.