Cirrus@Austlit

'Don’t let the clean, wholesome title fool you – Charlotte Guest’s Soaphas a delightfully dirty underbelly, like a dog that has been scrapping in the mud. This grit is evident from the opening poem, “Harvest” (1), which at first blush is a celebration of the birthing rite: “The strongest women on earth farm / the cassava,” we are told, and “They sing / the root from the ground / against empty bellies and the prospect / of rot.” The eternal struggle of women to beget life even as they must sustain their own lives is at the core of this poem, but Guest darkens the piece, warning that what is born is not always nourishing: “when prepared incorrectly, / the root produces cyanide,” she declares, and “We are advised to opt for a different dessert.” Is this a covert warning to the reader? There will be some risk, it seems, in encountering these strange and marvellous poems.' (Introduction)