Her fury is showing, glaring through the page.

It’s not often our words come out clearly when we’re trying to describe the pain we feel, especially when we are overwhelmed by so many conflicting emotions.

In Revenge Body, Rachel Wiley reveals her deep-seated anger and a desire for retribution. She speaks of “righteous anger” and this “undeserved forgiveness” that burns inside of her. When people in life hurt us, it brings out a rage that often can’t be contained and spills out of us. She speaks from the heart when revealing her truths, and she is furious. But her poems are clear, structured. Wiley organizes her thoughts in a way that invites us to be enraged alongside her, while still maintaining a sense of maturity that is admirable. One word comes to mind when reading her work: passion. She is so alive and emotionally charged; we can feel her anger so intensely through the page and, at the same time, are able to reflect on our own resentments that we may have. 

Wiley’s third poetry collection is broken into three parts. Each section is devoted to dissecting the author’s personal experiences, which gives us insight into her relationship with love. She considers the downsides and consequences that come along with that intimacy, that utter devotion and the process of having to regain self-love; to claim it as her own again after having it taken from her. Wiley is unapologetic in her exploration of trauma, body image, intersectionality, Black identity, sexuality and resilience. Something readers can appreciate about Revenge Body is the countless opportunities she extends to connect us with her work. With a wide variety of topics, she has a little something for everybody to engage with and, even potentially, relate to on an emotional level.

Wiley uses free association and lets her inner monologue drive her work in poems like “Executive Functioning” and “Prozac 30MG.” By following this continuous stream-of-consciousness in her writing, she exemplifies how messy and complicated life can be. The endless number of thoughts and feelings we have every day can’t be summed up in a matter of sentences. They are random, subjective and non-linear. Wiley does an effective job of revealing this part of the human experience and, in its own right, it’s so accurate. Following her train of thought also does a great job of showing how overwhelming life is. Even those mindless tasks that take up our time can be completely overbearing. Little things like reheating the tea after it gets too cold or doing the dishes. “What Brings Me in Today” fits most clearly with this intention. In this piece, a close friend’s suicidality is the catalyst for an impromptu therapy session. Therapy is just the place for tangents and rambling, as we are able to explore complex emotions freely in a productive and supportive environment. The words just spill out of our mouths, as they do in Wiley’s poems. 

This kind of writing is easily comparable to a confessional – the art of exploring the self. Well-known poets such as Sylvia Plath and Robert Lowell braved this era of poetry and popularized it. In its time, confessional poetry covered topics that were “not supposed to be spoken.” Stories so personal that it almost felt like you shouldn’t be reading them, like a diary. Revenge Body reflects on a variety of intense psychological experiences that the author undergoes: an abusive childhood and her struggle with mental health. It’s so raw with emotion. And that’s just it – confessionals are surrounded by this idea of vulnerability. Continuing to share stories that are uncomfortable to talk about warrants a kind of understanding, prompting more people to invite others into those parts of themselves that they may otherwise feel completely alone in. 

The way the author jumps right into a piece, without warning, is almost shocking, but pulls her audience in. In poems such as “Femme Fatale” and “Revenge Body” she immediately intrigues us, teases us: “his first mistake is assuming anything I do is for male consumption, for his consumption,” pulling us into her story and her rage. It’s bursting with anger – giving the illusion that Wiley had been biting her tongue for too long and now she’s finally letting that fire run rampant. It’s refreshing in its ability to feel like the last straw, and she’s had enough. Like confessional poetry, it feels like a secret between Wiley and us. By sharing this with us, letting us in on her unrepentant anger, Wiley gains her power back as she takes control over how her story is being told. 

Wiley shows versatility in her writing style by using lists to format some of her poems. This adds some witty, light-hearted humour in contrast to much of her other storytelling. Discernible in its title, “All the Pills I Tried Before” describes each medication as if it were a person, an object or a bad dream. Adderall is “undoubtedly a fire sign” while Vyvanse is “a luxury car with cut brake lines.” This mixture of comic relief and dark humour allows us to take a moment before continuing with heavy subject matter. She even lets us laugh at ourselves, like in “Excuses” where Wiley lists off the reasons why she is unable to come to work for the day. She is “unable to stop crying and/or shitting and/or bleeding and/or feeling,” or maybe she is just “entirely too cool for this shit.” 

Wiley comes to terms with her anger at the end of Revenge Body, showing us how she moves forward in her survival of a painful past. It’s a beautiful moment to close on in this poetry collection. She has “survived love,” as she puts it in “Unconditional Fires,” and has found use in that – she has become resourceful and resilient. I really love her last line in this poem. She speaks about having to build a new home – one that is “perhaps less vulnerable to the fire.” I believe by this she means that our wounds only make us stronger people. The negative emotions that she puts on display in her work, she uses as a tool for her own transformation. She shows us, using this poetry collection as an example, that by releasing this anger and sadness, we can move beyond ourselves. It’s her way of healing. And in turn, we learn that no matter how broken, our hearts can always be salvaged.