{"product_id":"museum-of-unnatural-histories","title":"Museum of Unnatural Histories","description":"\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003eArchiving stories of dissonance and curating connection inside the imagined museum\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis extraordinary debut poetry collection by Dena'ina poet Annie Wenstrup delicately parses personal history in the space of an imagined museum. Outside the museum, Ggugguyni (the Dena'ina Raven) and The Museum Curator collect discarded French fries, earrings, and secrets--or as the curator explains, together they curate moments of cataclysm. Inside the museum, their collection is displayed in installations that depict the imagined Indigenous body. Into this \"distance between the learning and the telling,\" Wenstrup inserts The Curator and her sukdu'a, her own interpretive text. At the heart of the sukdu'a is the desire to find a form that allows the speaker's story to be heard. Through love letters, received forms, and found text, the poems reclaim their right to interpret, reinvent, and even disregard artifacts of their own mythos. Meticulously refined and delicately crafted, they encourage the reader to \"decide\/who you must become.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Sample Poem]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGgugguyni in the Museum Parking Lot\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI watch her crow. Not as a crow crows\u003cbr\u003ebut as herself. She's not here for the art.\u003cbr\u003eShe's here for the minivans that devour\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ediaper bags, car seats, children. She waits\u003cbr\u003efor the doors to retract and expel fruit, \u003cbr\u003eGoldfish, and fries. Free for the taking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe scavenges in lurching, crab-like steps. \u003cbr\u003eLike me, she won't appear human here. \u003cbr\u003eWhile her legs bring her from one delicious\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003escrap to another, I work my own inventory. \u003cbr\u003eOnce my parents named me Swift Raven--\u003cbr\u003ea real Indian Princess name. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI flew unblinded, my hair in a blue-black \u003cbr\u003ebraid down my back. Now, I'm ungainly, \u003cbr\u003emore harpy than girl. My mouth, a curve\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecalling for carrion. I'm not here for the art.\u003cbr\u003eI'm here for the mirrors, here to unpair\u003cbr\u003eearrings and unclasp foil from gum. My beak\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eready to unbind carapace from quiver. \u003cbr\u003eLike Ggugguyni, I'm a scavenger \u003cbr\u003elurching from one disaster to another. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSee how we curate cataclysms' aftermath. \u003cbr\u003eWhile we work, Ggugguyni tells me a story. \u003cbr\u003eOnce, my grandfather said, a long time ago\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethere was a raven. He opened a door\u003cbr\u003eand it was day. Then he drew his wing shut. \u003cbr\u003eWhat Ggugguyni didn't say, but what I heard: once\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe closed the door and it was night. Today\u003cbr\u003eI'm telling you this story instead: my mouth\u003cbr\u003eis a comma, my mouth is exclamation, \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emy mouth is my body holding open the door.\u003cbr\u003eWitness my body create day. See how the light\u003cbr\u003eappraises my collection. See how the sunlight \u003cbr\u003eexposes how shadow bleached everything white.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Annie Wenstrup","offers":[{"title":"Paperback","offer_id":46717613113580,"sku":"9780819501820","price":16.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true},{"title":"Hardcover","offer_id":46717613146348,"sku":"9780819501875","price":26.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0684\/1791\/3068\/files\/9780819501820.jpg?v=1754467342","url":"https:\/\/intl.allstora.com\/products\/museum-of-unnatural-histories","provider":"Allstora","version":"1.0","type":"link"}