Chapter and Verse: a review of Katie Manning’s Hereverent by Jonathan Everitt

Hereverent
By Katie Manning
Agape Editions
78 pp.

When a poetry collection features stained glass on its cover and contains poems like “The Book of Mad Souls,” there might be something vaguely spiritual going on here. In fact, Katie Manning pulls from every book of the Christian Bible in her stirring poetry collection, Hereverent (Agape Editions, 2023). Each poem’s title is derived from the title of a book in the Bible, in that order. And Manning’s titles range from mysterious to—yes—irreverent, as the book’s title implies. “The Book of Genes” draws on Genesis. “The Book of Sex,” Exodus. “The Book of What,” Matthew. You get the idea.

But if not, Manning explains the collection’s origins in her Author’s Note: “I am tired of people taking language from the Bible out of context and using it as a weapon against other people, so I started taking language from the Bible out of context and using it to create art. My process was to use the last chapter from one book of the Bible as a word bank for each poem. This is either the most heretical or the most reverent thing I’ve ever written.”

Given Manning’s use of source texts for inspiration, the lexicon of the collection is sparing, as she draws on the vocabulary frequently found in the word banks selected from each passage (Think bronze, fire, hand, eyes, prince, anger, fish, door).

Manning often employs short lines and stacked stanzas that form little towers on the page. They reach. They stretch. They rise. She also makes use of repetition in many of these poems. They’re incantatory, emphatic, and propulsive—perhaps a fresh liturgy for those on the outside looking in. Consider “everything / set up // placed / and set out // placed / and set up // place / and burned // put up / and offered” from “The Book of Sex.” Or “make / a person / a male / a female / a person / a male / a female / a person / a male” from “The Book of Evil” (Leviticus).

Manning’s poems read like found fragments we must find meaning in—which could be the whole point. What have we always done with ancient scripture but read into it, seeking old answers that still hold true? In that spirit, Manning takes on numerous related themes, from the person of Christ to the implications of prophecy.

In “The Book of Thru” (Ruth), the poet alludes to a different kind of infant savior when she writes, “love / gave birth to a son / in / old age // the child / cared for / living / and they name him // no one // except him // will raise the dead”. And in “The Book of Ash” (Joshua), she turns toward humanity in a striking direct address with “after these things / your God / died // you buried him / and / outlived him and / experienced everything.”

Manning shifts the New Testament’s gospel narrative toward something more prophetic in “The Book of What” (Matthew), writing “a / tomb / at dawn / is / like lightning // heaven / came down from heaven / and became like dead men // now I have told you // the / end.” It’s as if the poet is speaking of events yet to come. And in “The Book of Same” (James), she echoes prophetic doom with words that resonate with current events, both political and ecological: “listen / human // misery / is coming // your clothes / corrode / your flesh like fire.”

While she plays with the language pulled straight from biblical narratives, Manning also questions the theologies to which the Bible has given rise. She challenges the notion of God’s nature In “The Book of Am” (Micah), writing, “the best / God / lives by itself in a forest / but / visits you / like a neighbor.”

Still, Manning maintains an openness to faith in God while questioning the notions of god we have been taught to accept. You see it in “The Book of Were” (Hebrews), where she writes, “but / we are looking for / a / good / God // greet / her / if she arrives soon.”

She never shrinks from big questions—even the timeworn Problem of Evil makes an appearance, as in “The Book of Torn Fish” (First John), where she writes, “even / God / was born of God // … God keeps / evil / safe // we know // we are in him.”

Manning does more than consider centuries-old teachings in these poems. She alludes to modern sociopolitical forces, too. While the archetype of the strongman applies broadly, certain current public figures will come to mind when one reads “The Book of Endings,” where the poet writes: “an official / came / and said / settle down / and it will go well with you // he set fire to the city.”

There’s overlap between ancient and modern idolatry in “The Book of Icons” (Second Chronicles), where Manning explores what happens when people make God in their image—or make a leader into a god: “the people / attacked / God / bound him with bronze / in his temple / and carried him off // he became evil … the people became more and more // their ancestors sent word / pity // they set fire to God // power / enjoyed / its desolation / and / put it in writing.”

Likewise, she warns of predators who tell the masses what they want to hear. In “The Book of Moot” (Second Timothy), Manning writes, “the Lord / loved this world / but / he has deserted me / like a drink // a great number of / itching ears want to hear / myths / from the lions mouth / but / they / turn their ears away / from every / sound.”

And, while much of Hereverent takes aim at convention, it’s all to honor those who’ve had the Bible used to bludgeon them. As Manning concludes in her Author’s Note: “If you’ve had verses from the Bible used in harmful ways toward you because of your disability, ethnicity, gender, infertility, mental illness, race, sex, sexuality, weight, or for any other reason: I’m sorry. This book is for you, with love.”

Which may be why the poet seems eager to offer such readers not only critique, but some measure of solace when all is said and done. Manning contends that we each have an instinct for basic goodness within us—in contrast to the concept of original sin. Her reassurance is on display in “The Book of J” (Jude), where she writes, “Jesus Christ / called / to remind you that / you already know all this // Jesus Christ / secretly slipped in among you / long ago // Jesus Chris / a servant / eating with you / at your love feasts.”

There’s comfort to be found here in the idea that a thread runs through all of humanity and all of history. That, regardless of our beliefs, we are not alone. As the poet writes in “The Book of Peers” (Second Peter), “dear friends / do not forget this one thing // everything goes // you must / follow / like a thief / like a day / like a thousand years // everything / everyone / every / ever.”

Amen to that.

***

Katie Manning is the author of Tasty Other (Main Street Rag, 2016), as well as four chapbooks, including A Door with a Voice (Agape Editions, 2016), and The Gospel of the Bleeding Woman (Wipf & Stock, 2013). An award-winning poet, her work as appeared in Fairy Tale Review, New Letters, and Poet Lore, among others. She is the founding editor-in-chief of Whale Road Review. A graduate of the University of Missouri, Kansas City, and the University of Louisiana, Lafayette, Manning is an associate professor of Writing at Point Loma Nazarene University. She lives in San Diego, California.

James Bogue, photographer

Jonathan Everitt is a poet and freelance writer based in Rochester, N.Y.

Previous
Previous

Aching Strangeness: A Review of Lisa Johnson Mitchell’s SO AS NOT TO DIE ALONE by Allison Renner

Next
Next

Undoing Knots: a review of Gail Hosking’s ADIEU by Janet Dale