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No Language Is Neutral
A joyful, imagistic discovery of woman as speaker and subject. As a woman, a black, and a lesbian, Brand arrives at a rigorous and nakedly ruthless reclamation of the poetic.
56 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1990
11 people are currently reading
1732 people want to read
About the author
Dionne Brand
46 books476 followersAs a young girl growing up in Trinidad, Dionne Brand submitted poems to the newspapers under the pseudonym Xavier Simone, an homage to Nina Simone, whom she would listen to late at night on the radio. Brand moved to Canada when she was 17 to attend the University of Toronto, where she earned a degree in Philosophy and English, a Masters in the Philosophy of Education and pursued PhD studies in Women’s History but left the program to make time for creative writing.
Dionne Brand first came to prominence in Canada as a poet. Her books of poetry include No Language Is Neutral, a finalist for the Governor General’s Award, and Land to Light On, winner of the Governor General’s Award and the Trillium Award and thirsty, finalist for the Griffin Prize and winner of the Pat Lowther Award for poetry. Brand is also the author of the acclaimed novels In Another Place, Not Here, which was shortlisted for the Chapters/Books in Canada First Novel Award and the Trillium Award, and At the Full and Change of the Moon. Her works of non-fiction include Bread Out of Stone and A Map to the Door of No Return.
What We All Long For was published to great critical acclaim in 2005. While writing the novel, Brand would find herself gazing out the window of a restaurant in the very Toronto neighbourhood occupied by her characters. “I’d be looking through the window and I’d think this is like the frame of the book, the frame of reality: ‘There they are: a young Asian woman passing by with a young black woman passing by, with a young Italian man passing by,” she says in an interview with The Toronto Star. A recent Vanity Fair article quotes her as saying “I’ve ‘read’ New York and London and Paris. And I thought this city needs to be written like that, too.”
In addition to her literary accomplishments, Brand is Professor of English in the School of English and Theatre Studies at the University of Guelph.
For more information, please see http://www.answers.com/topic/dionne-b...
Dionne Brand first came to prominence in Canada as a poet. Her books of poetry include No Language Is Neutral, a finalist for the Governor General’s Award, and Land to Light On, winner of the Governor General’s Award and the Trillium Award and thirsty, finalist for the Griffin Prize and winner of the Pat Lowther Award for poetry. Brand is also the author of the acclaimed novels In Another Place, Not Here, which was shortlisted for the Chapters/Books in Canada First Novel Award and the Trillium Award, and At the Full and Change of the Moon. Her works of non-fiction include Bread Out of Stone and A Map to the Door of No Return.
What We All Long For was published to great critical acclaim in 2005. While writing the novel, Brand would find herself gazing out the window of a restaurant in the very Toronto neighbourhood occupied by her characters. “I’d be looking through the window and I’d think this is like the frame of the book, the frame of reality: ‘There they are: a young Asian woman passing by with a young black woman passing by, with a young Italian man passing by,” she says in an interview with The Toronto Star. A recent Vanity Fair article quotes her as saying “I’ve ‘read’ New York and London and Paris. And I thought this city needs to be written like that, too.”
In addition to her literary accomplishments, Brand is Professor of English in the School of English and Theatre Studies at the University of Guelph.
For more information, please see http://www.answers.com/topic/dionne-b...
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews
April 5, 2019
I have come to know something simple. Each sentence realised or dreamed jumps like a pulse with history and takes a side. What I say in any language is told in faultless knowledge of skin, in drunkenness and weeping, told as a woman without matches or tinder, not in words and in words and in words learned by heart, told in secret and not in secret, and listen, does not burn out or waste and is plenty and pitiless and loves.
I came to hear, or more like overhear, of Brand through a conversation some friends were having and she is more wonderful than their words praised her to be. Such words, such words. Brilliant, sparkling words and the journeys they led me to. Wonderful.
I came to hear, or more like overhear, of Brand through a conversation some friends were having and she is more wonderful than their words praised her to be. Such words, such words. Brilliant, sparkling words and the journeys they led me to. Wonderful.
July 1, 2021
These writings feel like biting into a ripe fruit and letting its juices burst in your mouth. The author creates such vivid imagery that places you, the reader, right in the heart of every situation. Just beautiful!
Favourite quotes:
”something hard against the soul
this is where you make sense, that the sight becomes tender, the night air human, the dull silence full chattering, volcanoes cease, and to be awake is
more lovely than dreams”
“The smell of hurrying passed my nostrils with the smell of sea water and fresh fish wind, there was history which had taught my eyes to look for escape even beneath the almond leaves fat
as women, the conch shell tiny as sand, the rock
stone old like water.”
“you can hardly hear my voice by now but woman
I felt your breath against my cheek in years to come”
“I heard her singing and could not dance. I heard her navigate the thick soil of who we are. Her boundless black self rising,
honeying.”
“I suddenly sensed you
at the end ofmy room waiting. I saw your back arched against this city we inhabit like guerillas, I brushed my hand, conscious, against your soft belly, waking up.”
“Instead you sat and I saw your look and pursued one eye Until it came to
the end of itself and then I saw the other, the blazing fragment.”
Favourite quotes:
”something hard against the soul
this is where you make sense, that the sight becomes tender, the night air human, the dull silence full chattering, volcanoes cease, and to be awake is
more lovely than dreams”
“The smell of hurrying passed my nostrils with the smell of sea water and fresh fish wind, there was history which had taught my eyes to look for escape even beneath the almond leaves fat
as women, the conch shell tiny as sand, the rock
stone old like water.”
“you can hardly hear my voice by now but woman
I felt your breath against my cheek in years to come”
“I heard her singing and could not dance. I heard her navigate the thick soil of who we are. Her boundless black self rising,
honeying.”
“I suddenly sensed you
at the end ofmy room waiting. I saw your back arched against this city we inhabit like guerillas, I brushed my hand, conscious, against your soft belly, waking up.”
“Instead you sat and I saw your look and pursued one eye Until it came to
the end of itself and then I saw the other, the blazing fragment.”
July 20, 2021
Phyllis, when you sit down and explain
the revolution, it did sound sweet and it
did sound possible.
This is a gorgeous collection of poetry that mainly focuses on Black identity and a deep celebration of love between women. I'm glad I read this book.
the revolution, it did sound sweet and it
did sound possible.
This is a gorgeous collection of poetry that mainly focuses on Black identity and a deep celebration of love between women. I'm glad I read this book.
February 8, 2018
5/5 stars - I never thought I'd be adding a book of POETRY of all things to my favourites list, but the stuff I read for uni continues to surprise me.
I can't imagine what it must be like to be able to weave words into poetry so beautifully. This is the kind of poetry I think should be popular right now. Not only is it important (especially because it's Black History Month), but it's GOOD. If you like any kind of poetry at all, I think you need to read this small collection.
The way the poems are set up in the book is very interesting as well. With a frame of one poem surrounding the others in the collection. With a focus on black women and the trans-atlantic slave trade, it's incredible power and uncomfortable, but it's REAL.
I can't imagine what it must be like to be able to weave words into poetry so beautifully. This is the kind of poetry I think should be popular right now. Not only is it important (especially because it's Black History Month), but it's GOOD. If you like any kind of poetry at all, I think you need to read this small collection.
The way the poems are set up in the book is very interesting as well. With a frame of one poem surrounding the others in the collection. With a focus on black women and the trans-atlantic slave trade, it's incredible power and uncomfortable, but it's REAL.
May 22, 2018
My goals in 2018 for reading were to include more non-fiction and poetry as well as women of colour (I've been reading mostly women for a few years now but oh so white it was).
What a marvelous introduction to possibly my first complete book of poetry that I've ever read. A small book, yes, but baby steps.
Dionne Brand - a recipient of the Order of Canada - poet, lesbian, woman of colour, Torontonian is someone I intend to get to know better. So few words...yet what power!
Thank-you feminist internet for bringing the writing of this woman into my life. Well overdue.
What a marvelous introduction to possibly my first complete book of poetry that I've ever read. A small book, yes, but baby steps.
Dionne Brand - a recipient of the Order of Canada - poet, lesbian, woman of colour, Torontonian is someone I intend to get to know better. So few words...yet what power!
Thank-you feminist internet for bringing the writing of this woman into my life. Well overdue.
May 11, 2024
i first read ‘blues spiritual for mammy prater’ last year for uni, and just had to seek out the rest of brand’s collection asap. her style is lovely; her sentences flow with such emphasis, affect, and precision of diction.
May 12, 2007
This book isn't in print anymore but you can sometimes find it online. It's beautiful, urgent revolutionary poetry. Brand writes it like few others can. I remember wanting to read everything else she'd ever written after finishing this book.
August 13, 2015
wooow wow wow!!! i don't even know what to say
February 8, 2018
A beautiful and emotional collection of powerful poetry regarding identity, culture, the impacts of colonial history and slavery on the Caribbean and the different communities that live there, and many other things. A fantastic read for Black History Month if you're looking to branch out to more authors and enjoy poetry. I did read this for one of my university classes and want everyone to experience it. This collection is so layered, I could re-read it five times and still pull different meanings from it over and over. Highly recommend.
April 22, 2019
Brutal and hot and simmering. I want to read everything she's written.
August 21, 2025
adding to my list of required reading books <3
November 12, 2007
Thick, sad poems. Dark and hard to read, but worth the effort. I found this when I first reading Audre Lorde when I was floating around the aisles of used book stores first year of undergrad.
February 8, 2011
My personal favourite is: Hard Against the Soul.
Awesome awesome feminist canadian author. Can't wait to read more.
Awesome awesome feminist canadian author. Can't wait to read more.
November 27, 2019
Romanticist language used upon the fractured body, this book definitely resonates as a mode of healing. Beautiful language with a purpose.
December 21, 2021
wow. i now want to read everything this woman has ever written
January 19, 2022
So the street is still there, still melting with sun
still the shining waves of heat at one o'clock
the eyelashes scorched, staring the distance of the
park to the parade stand, still razor grass burnt and
cropped, everything made indistinguishable from dirt
by age and custom, white washed, and the people...
still I suppose the scorpion orchid by the road, that
fine red tongue of flamboyant and orange lips
muzzling the air, that green plum turning fat and
crimson, still the crazy bougainvillea fancying and
nettling itself purple, pink, red, white, still the trickle of
sweat and cold flush of heat raising the smell of
cotton and skin... still the dank rank of breadfruit milk,
their bash and rain on steps, still the bridge this side
the sea that side, the rotting ship barnacle eaten still
the butcher's blood staining the walls of the market,
the ascent of hills, stony and breathless, the dry
yellow patches of earth still threaten to swamp at the
next deluge.... so the road, that stretch of sand and
pitch struggling up, glimpses sea, village, earth
bare-footed hot, women worried, still the faces,
masked in sweat and sweetness, still the eyes
watery, ancient, still the hard, distinct, brittle smell of
slavery.
* * *
No language is neutral. I used to haunt the beach at
Guaya, two rivers sentinel the country sand, not
backra white but nigger brown sand, one river dead
and teeming from waste and alligators, the other
rumbling to the ocean in a tumult, the swift undertow
blocking the crossing of little girls except on the tied
up dress hips of big women, then, the taste of leaving
was already on my tongue and cut deep into my
skinny pigeon toed away, language here was strict
description and teeth edging truth. Here was beauty
and here was nowhere. The smell of hurrying passed
my nostrils with the smell of sea water and fresh fish
wind, there was history which had taught my eyes to
look for escape even beneath the almost leaves fat
as women, the conch shell tiny as sand, the rock
stone old like water. I learned to read this from a
woman whose hand trembled at the past, then even
being born to her was temporary, wet and thrown half
dressed among the dozens of brown legs itching to
run. It was as if a signal burning like a fer de lance's
sting turned my eyes against the water even as love
for this nigger beach became resolute.
* * *
I want to wrap myself around you here in this line so
that you will know something, not just that I am dying
in some way but that I did this for some reason. This
grace, you see, come as a surprise and nothing till
now knock on my teeming skull, then, these warm
watery syllables, a woman's tongue so like a culture,
plunging toward stones not yet formed into flesh,
language not yet made... I want to kiss you deeply,
smell taste the warm water of your mouth as warm as
your hands. I lucky is grace that gather me up and
forgive my plainness.
still the shining waves of heat at one o'clock
the eyelashes scorched, staring the distance of the
park to the parade stand, still razor grass burnt and
cropped, everything made indistinguishable from dirt
by age and custom, white washed, and the people...
still I suppose the scorpion orchid by the road, that
fine red tongue of flamboyant and orange lips
muzzling the air, that green plum turning fat and
crimson, still the crazy bougainvillea fancying and
nettling itself purple, pink, red, white, still the trickle of
sweat and cold flush of heat raising the smell of
cotton and skin... still the dank rank of breadfruit milk,
their bash and rain on steps, still the bridge this side
the sea that side, the rotting ship barnacle eaten still
the butcher's blood staining the walls of the market,
the ascent of hills, stony and breathless, the dry
yellow patches of earth still threaten to swamp at the
next deluge.... so the road, that stretch of sand and
pitch struggling up, glimpses sea, village, earth
bare-footed hot, women worried, still the faces,
masked in sweat and sweetness, still the eyes
watery, ancient, still the hard, distinct, brittle smell of
slavery.
- Return, 1, pg. 10
* * *
No language is neutral. I used to haunt the beach at
Guaya, two rivers sentinel the country sand, not
backra white but nigger brown sand, one river dead
and teeming from waste and alligators, the other
rumbling to the ocean in a tumult, the swift undertow
blocking the crossing of little girls except on the tied
up dress hips of big women, then, the taste of leaving
was already on my tongue and cut deep into my
skinny pigeon toed away, language here was strict
description and teeth edging truth. Here was beauty
and here was nowhere. The smell of hurrying passed
my nostrils with the smell of sea water and fresh fish
wind, there was history which had taught my eyes to
look for escape even beneath the almost leaves fat
as women, the conch shell tiny as sand, the rock
stone old like water. I learned to read this from a
woman whose hand trembled at the past, then even
being born to her was temporary, wet and thrown half
dressed among the dozens of brown legs itching to
run. It was as if a signal burning like a fer de lance's
sting turned my eyes against the water even as love
for this nigger beach became resolute.
- No Language is Neutral, pg. 22
* * *
I want to wrap myself around you here in this line so
that you will know something, not just that I am dying
in some way but that I did this for some reason. This
grace, you see, come as a surprise and nothing till
now knock on my teeming skull, then, these warm
watery syllables, a woman's tongue so like a culture,
plunging toward stones not yet formed into flesh,
language not yet made... I want to kiss you deeply,
smell taste the warm water of your mouth as warm as
your hands. I lucky is grace that gather me up and
forgive my plainness.
- Hard Against the Soul, 2, pg. 36
June 25, 2022
Bought this at Counterpoint Records in Franklin Village, Los Angeles with no context or knowledge of who Dionne Brand was. From the title I thought it would be a collection meditating on the ideological components of language and how a certain history is privileged through a language's set of words. It was absolutely that, but also much more.
Brand makes extensive references to the histories of slavery and colonialism in Haiti as well as to linguistics and the construction of meaning through language. She writes beautiful elegies for revolutionaries she knew from Haiti and later writes about how that complex history always abides with her in Toronto, Canada, with poems about memories of mother and others she knew, beautifully weaving in dialect and intentionally introducing diction that is likely outside of many North American lexica to create her images. The final poems are the most intimate, reflecting on early discomfort in the presumed roles of her gender, guidance of women around her and how she eventually discovered and embraced her lesbian identity through a first love.
Truly an achingly beautiful and raw book that feels so modern despite being written in 1990 (can see some of Brand's tendencies alive still in other contemporary poets I've read). Also wonderful was that the collection started off refreshingly didactic and gradually blended into the purely personal without ever losing a sense of conviction and urgency.
Brand brandishes her ethical lessons and history like a spear, with nourishing finesse. The world needs poetry like hers now more than ever.
Brand makes extensive references to the histories of slavery and colonialism in Haiti as well as to linguistics and the construction of meaning through language. She writes beautiful elegies for revolutionaries she knew from Haiti and later writes about how that complex history always abides with her in Toronto, Canada, with poems about memories of mother and others she knew, beautifully weaving in dialect and intentionally introducing diction that is likely outside of many North American lexica to create her images. The final poems are the most intimate, reflecting on early discomfort in the presumed roles of her gender, guidance of women around her and how she eventually discovered and embraced her lesbian identity through a first love.
Truly an achingly beautiful and raw book that feels so modern despite being written in 1990 (can see some of Brand's tendencies alive still in other contemporary poets I've read). Also wonderful was that the collection started off refreshingly didactic and gradually blended into the purely personal without ever losing a sense of conviction and urgency.
Brand brandishes her ethical lessons and history like a spear, with nourishing finesse. The world needs poetry like hers now more than ever.
January 19, 2022
I had never heard of Dionne Brand or any of her work before but I found this book in a small store in Mariposa County. It was the most adorable little store called Marketplace and it was full of secondhand clothes, vintage cds, vinyls, trinkets and locally made jewelry.
This was a collection of poetry about Brand’s migration from the Caribbean to Canada. It focuses on the point of view of black women, the transatlantic slave trade, black identity, and love between women. It was an emotional and powerful read. It is a great way to start getting into more women of color writers and a lot more beautifully written poetry.
No Language Is Neutral has now become my favorite poetry book by far. It was so raw in its wonderfulness. I won’t say much about this because words would just sully what an experience it was to read this. But please try to read this!!
This was a collection of poetry about Brand’s migration from the Caribbean to Canada. It focuses on the point of view of black women, the transatlantic slave trade, black identity, and love between women. It was an emotional and powerful read. It is a great way to start getting into more women of color writers and a lot more beautifully written poetry.
No Language Is Neutral has now become my favorite poetry book by far. It was so raw in its wonderfulness. I won’t say much about this because words would just sully what an experience it was to read this. But please try to read this!!
July 29, 2022
“I have become myself. A woman who looks
at a woman and says, here, I have found you,
in this, I am blackening in my way. You ripped the
world raw. It was as if another life exploded in my
face, brightening, so easily the brow of a wing
touching the surf, so easily I saw my own body, that
is, my eyes followed me to myself, touched myself
as a place, another life, terra. They say this place
does not exist, then, my tongue is mythic. I was here
before.”
THEY SAY THIS PLACE DOESNT EXIST THEN MY TONGUE IS MYTHIC I WAS HERE BEFORE 😭😭😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😭😭😭💔💔💔😭😮💨😭💔😭😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😭💔💔😭😭💔😭💔💔💔💔💔😭💔💔💔😭💔💔
at a woman and says, here, I have found you,
in this, I am blackening in my way. You ripped the
world raw. It was as if another life exploded in my
face, brightening, so easily the brow of a wing
touching the surf, so easily I saw my own body, that
is, my eyes followed me to myself, touched myself
as a place, another life, terra. They say this place
does not exist, then, my tongue is mythic. I was here
before.”
THEY SAY THIS PLACE DOESNT EXIST THEN MY TONGUE IS MYTHIC I WAS HERE BEFORE 😭😭😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😭😭😭💔💔💔😭😮💨😭💔😭😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😭💔💔😭😭💔😭💔💔💔💔💔😭💔💔💔😭💔💔
February 4, 2020
No Language is Neutral is my first time reading Dionne Brand, but it won't be my last. The way she looks at Blackness and sexuality was powerful to read, and even though not all of her form was to my personal taste, it was still lovely to behold. The sections Return and Hard Against the Soul (the second section of that one) were my absolute favourites and held me enthralled. Definitely recommended.
April 10, 2024
I don't believe that there is bad poetry, however, I read this for class, and don't remember a single thing. To the point that I actually reread it and still don't think this type of poetry is for me. I don't enjoy prose poetry period. There were a few parts that I did enjoy, but in the end, I'm reviewing the work as a whole and the rest was just too heavy for the few pieces to carry on their own.
February 12, 2021
I heard her singing and
could not dance. I heard her navigate the thick soil of
who we are. Her boundless black self rising,
honeying.
really like the collection. Poems are very moving, well-written, and genuine.
could not dance. I heard her navigate the thick soil of
who we are. Her boundless black self rising,
honeying.
really like the collection. Poems are very moving, well-written, and genuine.
August 25, 2021
I love the language. I love the poems remembering people lost and imprisoned. I loved the feeling of the poet finding herself. I know there is more to find in these poems when I come back to reread them.
January 28, 2023
"History will only hear you if you give birth to a/ woman who smoothes starched linen in the wardrobe/ drawer, trembles when she walks and who gives birth/ to another woman who cries near a river and/ vanishes and who gives birth to a woman who is a/ poet, and, even then."
November 29, 2019
wonderful
December 12, 2020
Beautiful and heartbreaking.
I don't know enough of the political background, but Brand's words made me curious and made me care.
I don't know enough of the political background, but Brand's words made me curious and made me care.
October 23, 2021
Brand is a beautiful lady and she is good
January 2, 2023
The writing gets denser and denser but it’s worth the trip.
April 8, 2023
evocative
Displaying 1 - 30 of 41 reviews