“Twice Alive” is an 83 page poetry collection written by Forrest Gander and released in 2021. Considering Gander is a Pulitzer Prize winning poet, it is no surprise that “Twice Alive” wields an inimitable amount of precision in its language, as well as in its blurring of the self-imposed demarcation between humans and nature.
When first reading “Twice Alive,” despite the sheer quality and richness of its language, I initially had trouble getting into it. This was not because “Twice Alive” was withholding anything from me as a reader, but rather because it was on a subject I knew nothing about: lichens and fungi as they exist in nature. Therefore, much of my reading experience involved doing research along the way. A lot of Googling occurred alongside Gander’s wonderfully archaic taste in words.
I want to clarify that the research I did while reading did not take away from my experience of this collection; in fact, I love how “Twice Alive” functions as a teaching tool and a jumping-off point for all the subjects it contains. For example, through this collection, we learn that Gander helped conduct fieldwork with Anne Pringle, a celebrated mycologist, and that is where much of his knowledge on lichens, fungi, flora and fauna comes from, especially on species local to California (where Gander and Pringle conducted their fieldwork, and where Gander calls home).
You may be wondering: why is Gander so interested in lichens and fungi from a poetic standpoint? This was also something that I was curious about upon opening “Twice Alive.” Lucky for all of us, Gander also understands that his readers may not know a ton about lichens, hence why he begins “Twice Alive” with an author’s note.
According to Gander’s author’s note, many of us have been taught that lichens are simply “the synergistic alliance of a fungus and algae or cyanobacteria,” but there is so much more to the creation (and endurance) of lichens than this. Not only are lichens created through the collaboration of the aforementioned organisms, but lichens also permanently alter the organisms that collaborate in the creation of lichens.
In addition, Gander cites Pringle, who said that “it may be that lichen do not, given sufficient nutrients, age.” Gander also adds that lichens produce asexually, always solidifying their existence in one way or another on this planet. With all of this in mind, Gander interprets lichens as physical evidence of nature’s self-communing – its intrinsic and necessary love of itself. He relates this idea to the various ways humans as a collective are intimate with one another, how they alter one another and provide evidence of their various kinds of love in the transformations they undergo. In Gander’s words, “Isn’t it often in our most intimate relations that we come to realize that our identity, all identity, is combinatory?”
While the author’s note tells us most of what Gander is writing about, the poems of “Twice Alive” tell the full story, while also introducing us to more themes of the collection. The composition of the collection as a whole feels like a song cycle, with repeating titles that are transmuted from one cycle to the next.
Each cycle of “Twice Alive” starts with an “Aubade,” or a love song that either embraces or grieves the coming of dawn. Aubades usually occur after lovers split up. Then, the “Unto Ourselves” poems use narrative to delve deep into nature and into the inner psyche, somehow doing both at once. This returns to Gander’s idea that humans and nature are not separate.
The “Twice Alive” poems continue this trend, but tilt into a level of self-discovery that the “Unto Ourselves” poems set them up to achieve. The “Sangam Acoustics” sections end most of the cycles with Whitmanesque love poems dedicated to nature, as well as how humans and nature change and guide one another into love and the shedding of baggage.
“The Redwoods” and “Rexroth’s Cabin,” being the last two poems in the collection, heighten the “Sangam Acoustics” poems by focusing on specific sites where human-nature love lives and breathes. This is especially clear in “The Redwoods,” with text and punctuation that lovingly takes on the shape of branches paired with photos Gander took of redwood trees while doing fieldwork with Pringle.
The feeling of inevitable shedding and rebuilding of love for all things Earth that Gander wields in “Twice Alive” is palpable and feels amazing to read and live vicariously through. The icing on top of this all, though, is “Twice Alive”’s poetic proof of Gander’s study of Sangam Literature, which originates with the Tamil people of South India from 300 B.C. to 300 A.D. The type of Sangam writing that Gander is using is called Akam poetry, which is essentially love poetry from the perspective of confluence, merging, rubbing off and embracing in all ways.
At the end of “Twice Alive,” Gander includes an essay from N. Manu Chakravarthy — a scholar Gander learned from and bonded with – about the power of Sangam writing, and how that power wields itself in “Twice Alive.” It made me so happy to see Gander’s sources, from Pringle to Chakravarthy. It not only proves his respect and indebtedness to the people he has worked with and learned from, but it also expresses his desire to continue this lineage of education after him. “Twice Alive,” as I mentioned before, is a teaching tool at its core, and an amazingly thorough one at that.
In conclusion, Gander transmutes every source he encounters into pure sublimity that makes you question your understanding of your surroundings and yourself. The transformation you go through as you read “Twice Alive” feels both ecstatic and heartbreaking in all the ways life is, especially if you are going through difficult moments in your life while reading. It is an incredibly healing collection.
One last note: Gander’s connection to all things nature – especially his connection to the forest – reminds me of us Drew students. If you love nature, love learning and love other humans in any way (like most of us at Drew), this book is for you. It is such a brilliant read, and I cannot recommend it enough, especially if you love poetry.
Michael Indovina is a senior majoring in studio art and English with a creative writing concentration and minoring in theatre arts.
