Rupi Kaur documents human existence — precisely, the existence of a woman in the 21st century in a way that is so unique, one could almost call it a gift. It takes a special kind of vision to process seemingly complicated experiences that give rise to a deluge of emotions, compress them like one would a file, and express them in the simplest of words and arrangements. And yet, she does this wonderfully well in The Sun and Her Flowers, her second poetry collection, published in 2017.
The Sun and Her Flowers addresses the subjects of loss (of a loved one and of the self), grief, pain, self-discovery, self-love, and other complexities of the human experience. It is a book that grows as one flips through the pages. This is done with intention, as it is written in five chapters — wilting, falling, rooting, rising, and blooming, to portray the life of a flower in juxtaposition with the life of a woman and the different phases she must go through before finding herself.
In The Sun and Her Flowers, Kaur brings to life sentiments every woman has felt at some point or the other. And in that, she also expresses more obscure facets of emotion, including those that bring us shame and cause us to reflect on the least lovable aspects of ourselves. For instance, in her poem “Unappreciative” she writes: when snow falls/i long for grass/ when grass grows/ i walk all over it / when leaves change colour / i beg for flowers / when flowers bloom / i pick them. It’s a poem with feelings many of us can relate to, but also makes us feel ashamed, because we are not perfect, and we don’t like to be reminded of our shortcomings, especially where they are petty and avoidable. On this premise, her ability to amplify the least romanticized aspects of the human experience is brave, and also quite rare, considering poetry often comes from a personal place.
My favourite thing about The Sun and Her Flowers, is not the book itself, but what it has meant to the world. Virginia Woolfe in her essay, A Room of One’s Own, talked about how women in the literary field are often undermined, and their efforts seen as fantastical, with no actual weight to the real world. That was true then, in the 20th century, and one would think that perhaps due to times changing, women writers would be accorded more respect. But Kaur and her poems have faced the same criticism Woolfe talked about. People don’t perceive it as real literature, probably due to its simplicity, and effortless beauty. Her poems have become something of a pop-culture meme in today’s world, accruing amusement and ridicule. Personally, I believe her gift is valuable, and her writing, her simplistic, easily shareable poetry, has been a great help to so many people in the past few years who can conveniently share an Instagram post to their friends and say “this reminds me of you.”
There is some magic in that, don’t you think?
Finally, you did not ask, but my favourite poem from the collection was “Sunflowers.” In it, Rupi Kaur writes: despite knowing / they won’t be here for long/ they still choose to live / their brightest lives. It is a stunning reminder to all of us, who fail to remember that once we are born we start to die, that we should take some time to see the sights before our lights go out.
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NB: I was challenged to read the book and write a review on it. Because like many other people, I ridiculed Kaur’s take on poetry. But by so doing, I was able to appreciate a few things, and I thought this was a good lesson for me and anyone else who chooses to take something away from it.
