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Rachael Clyne's You'll Never Be Anyone Else presents a direct and assured voice, demanding that we think carefully about what it takes to reconcile being different. She advises the reader to 'Stop drinking the poison / labelled "Hate me." / It's that simple. I didn't say easy.' Clyne also has an alter-ego "Girl Golem" reminiscent of a superhero but based on the mythical man made from clay and spells to protect Jewish people from persecution. Through this empowering persona, Clyne opens up an exploration of Jewish and lesbian identity. Surveying attitudes in the present day and in the past, these poems explore migrant heritage, sexual identity, domestic violence and ageing. The stories of this collection are often poignant, like the retired tailor in 'Mr Shopping Trolley', who takes to shearing newspapers, so that his scissor fingers remain busy. Or in 'Leaving Odesa', the speaker revisits the prison where – under Tsarist law – her grandmother (even as an infant) had to serve out the remainder of her father's sentence after he died.Clyne's imagery is razor sharp in its precision, as she deftly weaves different poetic forms and wildly versatile subject matter, even interspersing Yiddish phrases, as part of her own unique poetic idiolect. Take the hilarious poem, 'Jew-a-lingo (Code-switching for Jews 1970 edition)' which emphasizes Jewish humour as a staple survival strategy. You'll Never Be Anyone Else offers a unique story of survival and empowerment told in spite of experiences of violence and prejudice – this from a poet who has spent a lifetime learning self-acceptance and as a psychotherapist helping others to do similar. Treating even dark subjects with playful wit and colourful imagery, Clyne is a distinctive new voice with a powerful message about self-acceptance. "Rich, cinematic and sensuous." – Joelle Taylor 'With its impressive scope, ranging from the Holocaust, nuclear fallout, and immigration to domestic life and childhood, Rachael Clyne's Girl Golem thoughtfully explores our tactics for survival: in resistance, in the imagination, in mutual care. In these evocative, spirited poems, Clyne implicitly argues for faith in our own humanity and for the richness of difference.' - Carrie Etter 'Rachael Clyne's poetry, full of physicality and dramatic openness, accumulates a series of tensions within her Sixties free spirited identity and Jewish heritage. Attentive to narrative angle and migrant experience, she allows characters to emerge over generations showing how they mould into a new cultural identity. In its quiet and carefully crafted ways, Girl Golem shows the sweep of history and the importance of a tolerant county that offers salvation to those persecuted abroad.' - David Caddy 'Clyne's poems inhabit a shadowy and uncomfortable space where all is not as it seems – people become pieces of furniture and rooms have sinister personalities. A complex work of many layers – these thought provoking and deftly crafted poems are a playful and powerful examination of identity, sexuality, heritage and family dynamic. Clyne skilfully conveys a sense of disquiet and alienation, a sense of being other, both within the dysfunctions of the family, but also within the context of the wider world.' - Julia Webb Rachael Clyne is a psychotherapist from Glastonbury. Her prizewinning collection Singing at the Bone Tree (Indigo Dreams) concerns human beings' relationship with nature, and she is a climate activist. Her pamphlet Girl Golem (4word) concerns her migrant background and sense of otherness. A frequent reader at poetry events and festivals, she has been published in magazines like Shearsman, The Rialto, and The Interpreter's House.
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You’ll Never Be Anyone Else
Seren is the book imprint of
Poetry Wales Press Ltd.
Suite 6, 4 Derwen Road, Bridgend, Wales, CF31 1LH
www.serenbooks.com
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The right of Rachael Clyne to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
© Rachael Clyne, 2023
ISBN: 978-1-78172-703-4
Ebook: 978-1-78172-704-1
A CIP record for this title is available from the British Library.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted at any time or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the copyright holder.
The publisher acknowledges the financial assistance of the Books Council of Wales.
Cover painting: ‘The Session’ by Carole Windham
Printed in Bembo by Severn, Gloucester
Girl Golem
Sweety Pie
Three Piece Suite
Bedtime
Our Usual Walk
Tradition
Jew-a-lingo –
White/Other?
The SCHNOZZ
In Odesa’s Moldovanko District
Leaving Odesa
Mr Shopping Trolley
Siblings
What can we talk about…
I cradle my grief
Girl Golem finds a foster home
True Romance – Comics for Girls
Waiting for Bread
My fifteen-year-old hymen
Proposal
Diva
Ronnie Scott’s 1976
Susan Expects to Be Admired
Dateroo
A Man Threw Knives at Me
Girl Golem is Stranded in Marriage
Removing Her Face
Full Sail
Indoor Sport
Take the Medicine
Her Mind is Snagged
Girl Golem Wonders What to Wear
My Life as a Soap
Puzzled
Out of My Head
And Eat It
I Sketch Her as a Bird-headed Goddess
La Cuisine de L’Amour
Unfitting
Birls and Goys Come Out to Play
Power Cut
Girl Golem Looks Back
Tripp Reviews My Past
Dear Unborns
Be Grateful For Those Love Lessons
Tending the Wounded
Liberating the Senses
Seen
Because of Wet Grass
What I Asked of Life
Rewilding the Body
Sometime in the next ten years
You’ll never be anyone else
Acknowledgements
The night they blew life into her, she clung
bat-like to the womb-wall. A girl golem,
a late bonus, before the final egg dropped.
She divided, multiplied, her hand-buds bloomed;
her tail vanished into its coccyx and the lub-dub
of her existence was bigger than her nascent head.
She was made as a keep-watch,
in case new nasties tried to take them away.
The family called her tchotchkele, their little cnadle,
said she helped to make up for lost numbers –
as if she could compensate for millions.
With x-ray eyes, she saw she was trapped
in a home for the deaf and blind, watched them
blunder into each other’s neuroses. Her task,
to hold up their world, be their assimilation ticket,
find a nice boy and mazel tov – grandchildren!
But she was a hotchpotch golem, a schmutter garment
that would never fit, trying to find answers
without a handbook. When she turned eighteen,
she walked away, went in search of her own kind,
tore their god from her mouth.
Golem: man made from clay and Kabbalistic spells, by rabbis to protect Jews from persecution. Truth: was written on his forehead and God’s name on his tongue. Tchotchkele (diminutive of tchotchke): a trinket, a cute child. Mazel tov: good luck. Cnadle: a dumpling. Schmutter: a rag.
We always wanted a girl,
but you weren’t the kiss-curl kind.
Grubby-kneed, nosepicker.
You tore the frocks grandma made.
You answered back. How rude.
You dimpled nicely though, when pressed
with a finger and grandma had big teeth.
She kept them in her pocket.
We told her to slip them in,
as you popped the oven on –
just a teeny shove.
Mother, the rickety chair, teeters;
needs a wedge to steady her.
A chair from the Old Country,
