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Quote by Maggie Nelson

“This sounded good — I like physical experiences that involve surrender. I didn’t know, however, very much about experiences that demand surrender — that run over you like a truck, with no safe word to stop it. I was ready to scream, but labor turned out to be the quietest experience of my life.”

Quote by Maggie Nelson

Work

The Argonauts

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Author

Maggie Nelson
Maggie Nelson

Maggie Nelson (b. 1973) is an American poet, essayist, and critic known for her genre-defying works that blend poetry, memoir, theory, and criticism. Her writing explores themes of gender, violence, family, and art. Her acclaimed book 'The Argonauts' won the 2016 National Book Critics Circle Award and became a landmark in queer theory and autobiographical writing. Nelson's unique style combines first-person narrative with philosophical inquiry, challenging traditional literary categories. She has taught at the California Institute of the Arts and the University of Southern California, and currently lives in Los Angeles. more

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“Outside november night gathers With a harmony of autumn leaves Blown down a wind. Quietly by the fire Taliesin Humming from within his closing hood Places the seeing child on to a chair. And the glowing head is clothed In a vestment with bright Colours spreading. Together two voices rise Until at the end of breath one soars And one falls away......echoing. - Circle of Gold”

“Pressing a palm against the new mother’s tummy, Eena closed her eyes and let the dragon’s soul kindle. Her mind sensed the fetus, picturing a disproportionately large head and little appendages still developing. She identified a rapid heartbeat pumping vital blood and nutrients throughout the body. She felt breathing-like movements and uncontrolled twitches that the mother could not yet perceive. She was aware of the massive reproduction of cells taking place, forming intricate, detailed anatomy. Here was a life-form. A young boy. He was healthy. So was his mom. It was remarkable.”

“Taya found that the scent of childbirth lingers, its odor distinct like dirt and rain, unique as horses, or autumn’s leafy deadfall, or the ocean. The womb’s peculiar smell is round, a cloyed metallic musk, the scent of dense nutrients and cell divisions, and the very beginning of decay. For as soon as life begins, decay begins as well—at least in this world it does. This world that relentlessly repeats the same two themes over and over: Birth. Death. With varying degrees of life in between.”