Becoming a parent is life changing. Raymond Antrobus’ third poetry collection, Signs, Music , captures this transformation as he conveys his own transition into fatherhood. The book is split between before and after, moving from the hope and trepidation of shepherding a new life into the world to the sleeplessness and shifted perspective of being a new father.
Antrobus offers glimpses into his childhood as he considers his father, wondering what effect he might have on his own parenting. He reveals his guilt when he pushes responsibilities to his partner. He pens delicate, simple poems that reflect his baby’s joy at discovering life’s wonders.
And he employs one of literature’s favourite motifs, the bird, to gratifying effect. With an English mother and Jamaican father, Antrobus and his writing come from a place of colonialism, legacy and impractical standards, where deaf students are assessed “on what they can’t say instead of what they can,” as he says during a powerful recitation featured on his webpage. From Oklahoma to London, Hebrew to Sanskrit, the King James Bible to William Wordsworth’s daffodil poem, the setting and context add entire dimensions to the collection.
Art is what you make of it, and there are a lot of ways to interpret Antrobus’ collection, starting with the title. I went into the book with the surface understanding, surmising “signs” referred to the signals of impending parenthood and “music” the celebratory result. But pretty.