Nina Light's Reviews > Thaw

Thaw is Chelsea Dingman's inaugural poetry collection. In these poems, the author talks about violence, abuse, death, loss and grief; about family and childhood, about being a daughter, and about growing up and becoming an adult and a mother; about the hauntingly beautiful landscapes she travels through and lives in (against...?), across Canada and Scandinavia; and about country, citizenship and kinship. Her language is raw but streamlined, highly descriptive and evocative, drawing us into the poem and placing us exactly at its centre.

Not knowing what we are going to find inside, the first poem in the book immediately takes our breath away, beginning with the first sentence and carrying it on to the very last. And, I dare say, it sets the tone for the collection, while illustrating the strength of Dingman's voice, and its absolutely clarity.

I particularly like the way Dingman approaches her themes. Her voice may appear at first soft, and at times seemingly infused with an inner anger and deep sorrow, permeated as these poems are with the author's own brand of imagery, until you linger a bit more over the lines themselves, or the very meanings hiding in them. It is then you realise the strength in these poems' voice, and its amazing clarity.

This book is a journey through a life, and it shows: a life that has been lived the best it could, a life that has seemingly been a quest for meaning and closure, and which has had its ups and downs, its tragedies and its joys, its sorrows and its own measure of happiness.

Semantically, these poems are exquisite. I've read a few poetry books this year, but none like Chelsea Dingman's. Her poetry is extremely accomplished and evocative, and the metaphors will reverberate inside you for a long time after you read it. I was so haunted (in a good way, it's good - no, it's excellent when poetry 'haunts' you!) by its language that I decided to sit the review out and reread the book at a later date. Which I now have. And I feel exactly the same way about it. It's the highest praise I can possibly give: if you read one poetry book this year, please please make it Dingman's Thaw. You won't regret it, I promise you.