June 30, 2020
Edited by Stephanie Kaylor
Sara Pisak
Review of The In-Betweens by Davon Loeb
The In-Betweens
Davon Loeb
Everytime Press, 2018
The In-Betweens (Everytime Press, 2018) is not simply the title of Davon Loeb’s memoir but being “in between” comes to represents his style of writing and the seemingly inconsequential moments in his life that lead to larger understanding. Being “in between” is about breaking down the barriers that divide us both internally and within society.
Loeb’s narrative begins with the challenging circumstances surrounding his parents (his Black mother and White father) meeting, the catalyst for Loeb seeing himself as existing between two worlds. Describing his situation as, “But we lived in a town with zero-point-nine percent Black population and ninety-six percent White population, and I felt like the accidental ink blot.” Loeb feels his family unit is “pretend” and that he doesn’t quite fit in with either side of his family. From this viewpoint, he presents a rich portrait of growing up bi-racial which includes poignant discussions on his family’s enslavement, his hair, and watching
Roots in school for Black History Month, among various other topics.
From his parents’ first meeting, Loeb’s narrative branches out to include not only the story of his life but the stories of those closest to him; he explores the everyday moments with his grandfather and playing in the yard on hot summer days with the other children in his family. Elevating these everyday moments to places of importance and using these commonplace moments to illuminate themes, is just one place where Loeb’s writing shines.
Stylistically speaking, Loeb’s memoir also lies between two distinct mediums: poetry and memoir. Its poetic elements and segmented style, which showcases Loeb’s bildungsroman and his complicated relationship with his family, is reminiscent of Langston Hughes’
The Big Sea. His writing richly includes metaphors, alliteration, symbols, and various other poetic craft elements. These hallmarks of poetry spill from the page and allow the work to exist as both a memoir and a series of prose poems.
One such poetic highlight is Loeb’s use of trees as an extended metaphor. He writes:
Our bodies might have twined and rooted and became part of the earth, and under our arms and between our legs — moss might have formed, and our eyes could have been green and leafy and even stemmed out the brush of our faces, and while our bones grew rings and our skin became bark — the fear in our bellies felt magnificent.
Loeb personification of his stillness and fear in this moment breaks down barriers as he becomes one with the earth. This passage produces lasting imagery which engages the reader’s sense. Loeb extends the metaphor a few sections later to encompass his family’s history with slavery and racial discrimination. He reflects on bodies, “beaten and broken like branches on the old trees that hanged more bodies than it had in rings of bark…”
These interlinking short segments paired with poetic elements, draw deep and intimate connections that allow Loeb’s memoir to transcend standard memoirs and become a barrier breaking work. To quote Persian poet Rumi, “The wound is the place where the light enters you.” Loeb proves, the “in between places” that we often believe make us different, broken, or outsiders are often the places where the light comes in.
The In-Betweens is full of light.
Visit Davon Loeb's Website
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Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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