Review
Title: Katabasis: Monologues for the Dead
Author: Heather Harris-Bergevin
Publisher: BCC Press
Genre: Poetry
Year Published: 2023
Number of Pages: 268
Binding: Paper, Kindle
ISBN: 978-1948218894
Price: 9.99
Reviewed by Andrew Hamilton for the Association of Mormon Letters
A katabasis is a journey one takes to the underworld, the realm of the dead, then returns alive. Often the person on this journey returns with something special such as knowledge, immortality, or a lost loved one. These journeys occur in many mythological and religious traditions. Think of Odysseus and the rituals he performed to commune with the dead and gain knowledge from them. Or Enkidu, who in the Sumerian text Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and the Netherworld performs a similar task. There are also the tales of Adonis and Aphrodite, Dionysus, Heracles, and Orpheus. Even the stories of Peter, Paul, and Jesus in Christianity involve katabasis.
In her introduction to Katabasis: Monologues for the Dead, Heather Harris-Bergevin states:
The descending and ascending aspect is sort of a chiasmus concept, this going downward into the depths of Hades on some impossible mission, and then turning fighting your way back out again when disallowed daylight. No word, however, has better encapsulated my last few years, nor this little offering. The structure of this book is intentionally darker in the middle than at either end, with the denouement being, one of peaceful contentment.
As her introduction progresses, Heather lets you in on some of the details of the personal Hell she descended into and ascended from between 2016 and the completion of this book in 2022. She writes about witches and of how they are heroes and not villains when we understand them. She mentions Jael and how perhaps more women should identify with her! Heather then states:
katabasis doesn’t sound like it’s going to be ok, and then it is. There is a weird companionship in the weird, the magical, the strangeness of the Other. But, you have to get through the Katabasis, and return in your Anabasis: back from the underworld and into the light. Thank you for coming with me the whole way, in life and in poems. (xviv)
As you participate in the monologues of Katabasis, you will journey with Heather into weird darkness, but this is not a voyage of the damned, not a one-way trip. On this strange voyage, Heather guides you far more deftly than Charon ever could. As you journey with her through the strange, the weird, and yes, the dark, you will also experience marvelous, glorious, wonderful light that will brighten the dark recesses of your life. Heather has been to Hell and back. As you read and experience Katabasis, you will descend with her into the depths of Hades and then ascend into a stunning Elysian Kingdom.
As I was reading, I started marking poems and passages that were particular favorites. Poems that touched or changed me. Passages that offered insights or that I could relate to. My intent was to highlight these in my review. As I finished reading Katabasis, it was nearly midnight. The air was damp from rain. I was surrounded by pine trees, sitting in the dull glow of a dying campfire on the shores of Redfish. I pushed the button on my Kindle that allowed me to see all of my notations. I quickly realized that I had added the word “Use” to so many passages that if I mentioned them all, my review would be nearly as long as the book. So with much restraint exercised on my part, I will mention just a few.
Before the book officially starts there is a piece titled “The Poem Before the Poems.” Its description of Jesus needs to be read and pondered by every politician and person who claims the title of “Christian.” Think of Stephen Colbert’s famous statement:
“If this is going to be a Christian nation that doesn’t help the poor, either we have to pretend that Jesus was just as selfish as we are, or we’ve got to acknowledge that He commanded us to love the poor and serve the needy without condition and then admit that we just don’t want to do it.”
The “The Poem Before the Poems” has that same flavor and power.
One of the poem’s that really moved me was “Seraph.” In it Heather speaks to one of her children who is Non-Binary and states that the god their father believes in rejects their very soul, Heather states that no such god exists and provides this comfort:
I believe God is bigger and wider, weirder and wilder than in those frail imaginings framing the Divine in ways we can grabgrasp easily in bite sized bars of chocolate in Sunday School. You burned clean away my need for a simple, always happy, frivolous God, who doesn’t understand grief, or pain, or abuses, or IEPs, or broken doors and people. I have no more Sunday School answers, and have no option but to rely wholely upon Deity, whether called God, Father, Elohim, Mother, Universe. The Universe loves you, I explain. She loves you and you are hers. She wants good things for you (“Seraph”)
While I never treated my Ace child as Heather’s child was treated, I did raise them as a Mormon, so what Heather had to say about her description of God was very powerful to me.
One thing that I have learned as I earned my Master’s in Rehabilitation Counseling and spent the last 15 years working with disabled people is that Temporarily Able Bodied people FEAR becoming disabled. This is why you see so many “Poster Children” and drives to raise money to “Cure” disabilities. Heather captures this fear powerfully when she writes:
You fear the thing I am—disability, pain, illness pocked in every pucker of my skin. You crave to be another not my form, yet in each cough you fear, in every carbohydrate you eat, in the inability to go to your gym, you claim, you are growing fat. Each night you cannot sleep, every pain that settles in your shoulders and your lower back because you feel the stress settling into your soul— you could become me. (“The First of the Plague: April 4, 2020”)
If there is one thing that the adults of this world need, it is to hold onto the wonder that they had a children so I LOVED these lines:
Wonder is brave and wild. Wonder looks at the massive and powerful astounding number of stars in the darkness of the breathtakingly beautiful universe, and does not number them, nor map, nor even look for familiar constellations, but stands awestruck, befuddled, thundergrazed, a(ston)ished, awesomely, wonderfully Filled. (“Wonder”)
One powerful truth you discover quickly in Katabasis is that Heather refuses to believe in or allow her children to accept a limited, bigoted go who cannot love and accept all of their children. Her concept of God is one who is truly ALL loving and mighty. These words, directed at one of her children, are particularly powerful:
There is no good God who expects his children to accept abuse and infidelity because they are themselves good humans. That’s not what a loving Father would do. A Loving father would support you on your way out, not use your faith to break you into accepting an unfaithful man against your better judgment and conscience. They will try to teach you that you don’t understand the nature of God, when really, they think they ARE God. This sort of human doesn’t believe in transforming themself into God’s image. They recreate God into their own image, because it’s all they can imagine, and then beat you with God’s word. (“Anderson’s Knives”)
One final line to mention before I wrap up this review. In one early monologue Heather writes, “Maybe a poem is a spell and this is why they are considered so dangerous.”
Katabasis: Monologues for the Dead is a book filled with insightful, powerful, deeply moving trauma poetry. The last few years have been rough on all of us. We have all experienced levels of darkness; we could all use a little more sublime light in our lives. Read Katabasis, experience Katabasis, and there will be more light in your life. Who should read Katabasis? IT will be meaningful for any reader, but it will be especially moving if you have experienced trauma. What Heather has written in her personal painful Katabasis, the insights that she provides, and the experiences that she shares; will move and change you as you travel the dark, weird journey with her.