So, the poems in this book are absolutely terrible and we need to talk about that.
Put away your pitchforks and torches. I said what I said. This book of posthumously published poetry by one of hip-hop’s most lauded voices is…pretty bad. The rhymes are trite, the metaphors banal (when they’re there at all) and if I didn’t already know an embarrassing amount about ‘Pac’s life story, I’d wonder who on earth Jada was and why there’s a string of poems dedicated to her.
Despite the generous foreword by Nikki Giovanni herself and the gangsta reputation Shakur had on the mic, these poems read like the musings of a slightly silly, hopelessly romantic teenage boy.
That’s because they are.
That’s what makes this interesting.
The poems in this book were written between 1989 and 1991.
Do me a favor. Watch this video.
Tupac is 17 years old here. He started writing these poems a year later. This Tupac is not the same Tupac who had beef with Biggie and got shot 5 times. This is not the Pac who went to prison. He’s not even the Pac who went on a movie road trip with Janet Jackson and Regina King in a postal van.
This is late teens art school Tupac, softer and sweeter, figuring himself and his emotions out, navigating love and beauty, but slowly, beginning to realize that the politics of class and race would always make his tender, precious self a target of national perception rather than personal humanity. These poems were his private musings, never meant for publication. This is really just Tupac working things out on the page like any other artsy kid.
There’s something precious and painful and thought-provoking in that, which is why this book, while not great poetry, is actually okay.
I wouldn’t recommend this to someone who wants to read serious poetry–he literally rhymes moon with June at one point–but as a reliquary holding a young man’s heart before life required it to be hidden deep within a persona, this book makes sense.
Writing workshops and a wonder of what could’ve been to The Rose That Grew From Concrete.
(Fellow readers, happy day after eating holiday to you, if you celebrate. This review was inspired in part by a video from the YouTuber F.D. Signifier. The video in question seems to have been taken down, but I still highly recommend checking out F.D.’s channel. This review was also made possible because I received a beautiful hardback copy of this book in a Goodreads giveaway. If you’re interested in diverse poetry that is not terrible and doesn’t require fandom to enjoy, check out this poetry booklist at the Equal Opportunity Bookshop. Reminder: we have an affiliate relationship with Bookshop and if you purchase a book there, we get paid. It’s only like a dollar or two per book, but every little helps. Now, go read something good and enjoy the rest of your holiday weekend, if you have one. Peace!)
Equal Opportunity Reader 