SALIM review by Shalenah Ivey
Dominic Anton’s new book, Salim, is a tender exploration of memory, home and identity that crafts a devoted odyssey to understanding who we are and who we are meant to be. In his traversing of these themes, Anton places us in a poetry collection abundant in ancestral visions of the past yet meditative on the present and future. Salim reads as a tale birthed in Babylonian gardens inviting us with an outstretched hand to catch a ride in a “white cadillac” to the desert of Los Angeles on highways and motels, winding home to the writer’s heart.
The journey begins centering the poet’s family’s story as immigrants of Chaldean heritage who flee from Iraq to Lebanon where Anton describes them as “waiting with…hearts like birds in cages” showcasing the painful dissolution of home. Eventually, they make their way to Detroit and into the question of the American Dream. Alongside these opening poems are family photographs that made me feel like I had been invited to sit on the sofa in Anton’s living room. I found myself studying the black and white images as closely as the poems with loving curiosity. There were minks and rosaries, tuxedos, and white lace. Champagne and flowers and diamonds. I peered into their eyes, making sense of their stories and the layers of their hearts.
The nostalgic lushness that radiates in these pages of family and sacred grandmothers feels both familiar and warm. I appreciate the poet’s connection to his identity being grounded in his ancestors and what they imparted within him. “There was no one quite like you…the queen of peace,” Anton memorializes. Words that made me think vividly of my own grandmother while reading. I imagine the poet pondering the question of how can we know where we’re going, if we don’t know where we came from?
As Salim moves to present day Los Angeles, readers are suspended not only between worlds but within the inner workings of Anton’s acute pondering on life and precious memories alongside stunning photographs of the City of Angels and the poet himself. Anton’s writing is clear and methodical like in “Heart of a Million Pieces” when he concludes:
“I want to sew each piece with a ribbon,
suture every person, place and memory
into my skin to keep and never forget.”
Yet, in the same breath there are stanzas that are rhythmic and songlike like in “God Knows I Tried” – also the title of a song by crooner and songwriter Lana del Rey from which the poet takes inspiration:
Empowered yet private.
Control, I’m the pilot
towards destiny’s doors I fly through.
The beginning third and the later third of the book especially, create an almost syncopated dance between the two tones reminiscent of flickering seen in an old school film projector.
The vivid imagery and reflections of Anton trying to find his way, the descendent of immigrants in an unrelenting world, speaking directly to the heart. Conversely, some areas of the book take on a more journalistic tone, operating in reflections that are tied firmly to many of the emotional and societal conflicts of today, phrased in matter of fact language regarding “algorithms,” “ads,”and “climate change.” While undoubtedly pressing and valid in their harrowing effect on our own emotional landscapes, there is a part of me that wonders if they could have been treated with a certain level of timeless adornment like many other aspects of the collection.
Perhaps this directness is what makes Salim most timely, however. It presents itself sincerely and uninhibitedly. Anton doesn’t hide his confusion, his heartbreak, his loss or his profound sensitivity to the world around him. From Miami to Paris to New York, he states that his “heart has been shattered and scattered across the world” unable to be contained as it is “everywhere all at once.” Even in the free fall of finding one’s self and purpose, there is a resounding sense of devotion and steadfastness to one's dreams.
Maybe more than anything, Salim is a beacon for those of us who find ourselves grappling with more questions than answers. I felt seen and inspired to hope. Ready to trust again in my journey and in my heart.
