Patricia Smith’s Unshuttered is a remarkable piece of work that explores Black consciousness through dramatic monologues. The book consists of a series of numbered poems paired with discovered nineteenth-century photos of African Americans. As we delve into Smith’s writing, we are transported into a world rich with emotions such as desire, love, joy, confusion, despair, anger, and resilience. In Unshuttered, a variety of voices challenge colonial narratives about African Americans in the post-Emancipation era. Although we don’t truly get to know the individuals in the pictures, we encounter them through a modern speculative lens.
In one photo, a young boy with a numb expression gazes into the distance, seemingly alone in a clearing. On the opposite page, the poem “12” begins:
Daddy left me with one keepsake—a mutt,
a tangled mess of jagged teeth and yapping.
That dog despised me. I would cautiously approach
his drooling mouth
The verses depict the precarious existence of the child. His pain evolves as he matures, attempting to comprehend parental affection. While the poetic language captivates the reader, Smith portrays a twisted form of love:
I never experienced
such fear before,
and pondered over the lesson my father imparted—
why he left me a dog that savored sinking
his teeth into my leg. Get used to him,
Pa said, I believe
he meant to toughen me up, to reveal
how intimately I’d always be
connected to hate I couldn’t transform into love. The man
I am can recognize
the truth in that. But now I wonder if
I imagined the insane dog. He has vanished from sight.
He left behind the fear, nothing more. And was he
black
or white?
The unexpected conclusion and strategic pauses build suspense. Smith’s bold voice is recognizable. Her previous works, like Blood Dazzler and Incendiary Art, also amplify the voices of those silenced by violence. Similarly, the intense nature of her poems in Unshuttered intensifies emotions. In “10,” a man in a tie declares, “Step closer to me and see⏤I have not a thing to prove. I am a cultured man, and every curious eye that turns my way clings to privilege and chisel.” Through a series of instructions, the speaker diminishes African racial identity. Smith’s portrayal of this character’s complexities, defensiveness, and even aversion critiques anti-Black sentiments.
Throughout the collection, Smith employs various forms like stichic and stanzaic writing, along with conventional sonnets that leave readers in awe. “11” is a stichic composition spoken by a woman standing beside a seated man named Jim. She conveys that he “works until / he weeps, claims to love / me more of his self / than he knew he owned.” Amidst this admission of delicate erotic pleasure, she describes her relentless labor:
I provide him with this solid
body, nights filled with my voice
in his hair. I give growl
to a duty. I care for the pigs,
flatten nails, and live,
strong and exhausted, beside
my man under the sun.
These poems reveal the impactful nature of dramatic monologues. An exceptional aspect of this collection is the graceful interaction between text and image, with the title Unshuttered challenging the authority of the photographer’s gaze. In “24,” the speaker directly confronts the photographer:
Driven by your thirst for control.
You desire me. So, I pose. You perceive
a silent jewel, a prized ornament,
a sunrise you can attach to your dawn.
A word I kept too private for you to hear
you never listened to. And now, my sir, it’s too late.
The adorned version of me behind your adorned gate
holds on to her skin. I caution you—stay away
The focus may be on the young woman, but she faces the gaze head-on and warns the one who “adorned her.” Like many other poems in the collection, this piece promotes an understanding of unequivocal feminist strength. The essence of Unshuttered could be encapsulated in what Smith describes in the preface as the driving force behind this multimedia project—the moment “the silence turned into a roar.”
