Maggie Smith’s “A Suit or a Suitcase” is a beautifully haunting collection of poems that explore the self, the body and the soul. The poetry collection is split into five sections, each with a range of different poems separated by theme. Across sections, there is an echoing desire to understand what it means to have a body, to exist and to be.
On the surface, Smith’s poems appear simplistic. She doesn’t use flashy rhymes and shies away from more structured forms of poetry. However, her free verse is refreshingly effortless, and her words are incredibly relatable. I found that certain lines stuck in my head long after I’d read them, even if I’d brushed over them at first. Smith speaks to a variety of audiences — mothers, lovers, grievers — but most of all, she speaks to fellow poets. Throughout several poems, Smith approaches the concept of poetry in an almost meta way, discussing both herself as the poet and her poetry as something she birthed. Any writer can find themselves somewhere within their poems — their experiences bleed onto the page, their struggle through craft transcribed into words.
Poetry can be tiring to read, especially in large quantities. It tends to ask more of the reader than prose in terms of interpretation, inviting them to consider the deeper meaning behind the words rather than take everything at face value. Smith’s varied usage of spacing and formatting allows for a visually interesting experience that aids the reader along. Some poems are written with two three-line stanzas, others are a series of couplets and still others are written as one long block of text. These small changes aid in the “just one more poem” feel of the book. While reading, I wanted to see what Smith might try next, and I enjoyed seeing how the different forms she used lent themselves to different subject matters. For example, one poem about metaphorically opening up is spaced to be split down the middle of the page, creating an image that matches the words.
Beside herself and her writing, the main characters within Smith’s poetry are her children. She frames certain poems around things her own kids have said or questions they have asked her, and digs away at their seemingly innocent thoughts layer by layer. I feel as though I finished the book with an intimate understanding of Smith and her familial relationships. Her poems are personal yet universal, so that you can place yourself in her shoes or simply come along for the ride.
In the titular poem of the book, “A Suit or a Suitcase,” Smith considers the question of what she will miss from this life. Her answer, like the entirety of her poetry, is succinct and clear: “Everything but cruelty.” In a way, this line perfectly captures the subject of the entire collection. Smith writes about everything: love, marriage, loss, theology, therapy and more. Her vivid wording and lush descriptions allow us to consider all these parts of life without cruelty. Through her poems, she has laid these sometimes painful parts of life bare, but she reminds us that to be human is to hurt and she creates beauty out of the ordinary, everyday.
I find that there is a clear difference between the person I am before and after reading anything, especially poetry. “A Suit or a Suitcase” is no exception. I am newly inspired, curious and thoughtful thanks to Smith’s words; they reside somewhere on or within my person. Her questions reverberate in my mind — do I wear her poetry, or does it wear me?
Is it a suit, or a suitcase?
Daily Arts Contributor Amany Sayed can be reached at amanysay@umich.edu.
