Review for Hip Logic, by Terrance Hayes

The words feel vibrant off the page. A reader can definitely hear the rhythm and beat of Hayes' lines of poetry in her head. This is a quick, powerful read, full of word play and melodies that reminded me of the jazz and blues songs from the Harlem Renaissance. There was a lot of metaphor though little to no simile, and the imagery was more than compelling. Some alliteration was thrown around, but I'm guessing that Hayes wasn't a fan of that particular poetic device - each poet has personal preferences, after all. There was only one instance in which Hayes played with the way words were spaced out on the page excessively; almost everything else could have been read out loud and performed.

Because Hayes is a minority in America - and I so relate to this - cultural heritage was a theme. Since he is an African American man, there were definite ideas of what being a man is like, or perhaps even should be like. (I didn't say I agreed with these ideas.) Because race and diversity are a continuing aspect of the lives of everyone who is not white and do not feel treated equally in this country, I had a few expectations about the tone and content of literary works like that since early college, and in regards to this poetry, since the first half of the book. I was far more intrigued by the unknown: the themes of fatherhood and loss in the other poems.

The poet wrote tenderly about every child and woman he narrated. You can feel their presence, hear their breaths. His parental figures were certainly a strong influence on his poems - I also relate to this. I appreciated the sense of humor and irony he presented behind his verse. I enjoyed for the most part the play on meanings - public and private - in the two sections labeled "A Gram of &s" but felt that his game was odd and the words were too selective: only a personal preference.

A good read for most modern readers, I would say. This book of poetry is the antithesis to any of the old fashioned European nostalgic and mimic nature type poems, because the lines are short, a bit slappy and sometimes angry. What nostalgia remained came off to me as rueful. While a boon to readers who appreciate a forceful voice and fastpaced rhythm, the book of poetry is probably not for those who read poetry for the wistful kind of pathos that poets like E. E. Cummings would provide.