If I was to describe Detaching Roots in one word, I would say it’s haunting. The way Beverly Maier tells her truth, her story of survival through a childhood of confusion, sexual abuse and neglect is devastatingly heartbreaking. In order to read this collection, I had to take multiple breaks to 1) decompress from the subject matter (because it hits you that hard) and 2) to fully analyze and appreciate the hard work and soul that Maier pours out between these pages.
Without a doubt, this collection is beautiful.
Maier masterfully crafts her poetry with a blunt voice that aids in her imagery. She’s raw with reality without being bitter. There’s fight in her words without overwhelming the reader with anger. It’s as if she’s perfectly in the middle. I don’t know how she could conquer the topics she does in such a just and smooth voice, but she does and it works very much to her advantage.
In many ways, Detaching Roots reminds me of Perennial by Kelly Forsythe. Both collections tackle a loss of girlhood, where the poet is stranded on the other side of innocence, both longing to go home and determined to move forward. The following poems hit me the hardest: The Almost Family, I Look For You, I’m Five, Kansas, You Weren’t There, What It Means To Be Free, Pretend, Conversations With Depression, Grief, New Skin, and Scars. Nothing I can say will truly capture how heartbreaking each piece is, so I urge you to just read them for yourself.
This is a collection for the ages. Maier gives voice to all the children like her, who are so easily over looked and forgot. It’s time we listen to what they have to say.