Skylark by Sara Cassidy (review)

First, Angie’s mom hurt her back and couldn’t work; then Angie’s dad left for Ontario to find work. Now things have gotten so bad that Angie, her mom, and her brother, Clem, have ended up living in their 1982 Buick Skylark. Encouraged by a counselor to keep doing the things the family used to, Angie’s mother takes them to Spiral Café, a place they frequented as a family in better times. Now, though, it becomes a place for Angie to find a lifeline, as she enters the poetry slam competitions they host on Tuesday nights, pouring out her fears and trying to make sense of her circumstances through her poetry. She meets with anger and resentment from some of the older, more competitive poets, but she also finds that the support of the audience, combined with the therapeutic power of the words themselves, has the power to carry her through this rough but temporary bad time in her life. This slim Canadian import contains a lot of power in a small package; the prose is straightforward yet lyrical, without a wasted word. The result is an ultimately uplifting treatment of a difficult subject that is both accessible and artful as it honors diverse talents: while their parents are barely literate, Angie finds delight in words, Clem’s a talented BMX rider, their mother creates a safe, almost cozy home out of a car, and their father eventually comes into his own as a bricklayer recognized for his strong sense of aesthetic design. Angie’s poetic sensibilities give her the through-line she needs to cope with being homeless and enable the book to deliver its message without being messagey; readers needn’t be strongly committed to poetry to appreciate this, but those that are won’t be disappointed.