A Poetry Book of the Year at The Guardian, The Sunday Times, and Poetry School
Winner of the Ted Hughes Award, Rathbones Folio Prize, and Somerset Maugham Award; shortlisted for the Griffin Poetry Prize
In the wake of his father’s death, the speaker in Raymond Antrobus’ The Perseverance travels to Barcelona. In Gaudi’s Cathedral, he meditates on the idea of silence and sound, wondering whether acoustics really can bring us closer to God. Receiving information through his hearing aid technology, he considers how deaf people are included in this idea. “Even though,” he says, “I have not heard / the golden decibel of angels, / I have been living in a noiseless / palace where the doorbell is pulsating / light and I am able to answer.”
The Perseverance is a collection of poems examining a d/Deaf experience alongside meditations on loss, grief, education, and language, both spoken and signed. It is a book about communication and connection, about cultural inheritance, about identity in a hearing world that takes everything for granted, about the dangers we may find (both individually and as a society) if we fail to understand each other.
About the Author
Raymond Antrobus was born in London to an English mother and Jamaican father. He was awarded the 2017 Geoffrey Dearmer Prize, judged by Ocean Vuong, as well as the 2019 Sunday Times/University of Warwick Young Writer of the Year Award. His second full-length collection of poems, All The Names Given, is forthcoming from Tin House and Picador in 2021. Raymond is currently based between London and Oklahoma City.
Intimate and searching.
— The New York Times Book Review
Raymond Antrobus's compelling debut, The Perseverance, confronts deeply rooted prejudice against deaf people.
— The Guardian
The Perseverance relates Antrobus’s experiences of being biracial and d/Deaf in sharp and beautiful poems. . . . These poems are expressive and beautiful and will leave readers thinking differently about sound and silence.
Antrobus can be gentle, tactile, and pointed in this book—which collects into an affirmation, a pronouncement. — The Millions
Innovative and urgent. . . . Deserves a wide readership. — BookPage
Emotionally textured and sonically charged. . . . the poem [‘Sound Machine’] gyrates through interrogations of grief and ancestry twinned with a brooded meditation on masculinity and selfhood. — Ocean Vuong, author of On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous
This book is a gift, for how it repurposes my understanding of treacherous feelings, and shapes them into something worth sticking around for. — Hanif Abdurraqib, author of A Fortune For Your Disaster
The Perseverance is an insightful, frank and intimate rumination on language, identity, heritage, loss and the art of communication. . . . These are courageous autobiographical poems of praise, difficulties, testimony and love.
— Malika Booker, author of Pepper Seed
An affecting, accessible, and astonishingly raw collection of poems. — October Hill Magazine
A memorable collection . . . Antrobus interlaces wit and pathos as he examines his identity as a deaf British Jamaican man in a world between sign language and speech. — The Sunday Times
Insightful. — Cool Hunting
A poet who traverses a diversity of worlds. — Colorlines
At every turn, Antrobus pushes back against flattening, against the tidy narrative—an invidious Ted Hughes poem gets radically revised, an aunt’s misheard utterance becomes ‘a faint fog horn, a lost river.’ It’s magic, the way this poet is able to bring together so much—deafness, race, masculinity, a mother’s dementia, a father’s demise—with such dexterity. — Kaveh Akbar
Honest, raw and striking…. Antrobus captures the feeling of isolation that comes with navigating a world not made for everyone who exists within it. — Arkansas International
It channels Danez Smith, Malika Booker and Caroline Bird, in formal poems, erasures, free verse, innovative use of Makaton symbols, translation, prose, and a blackout version of Ted Hughes’ ‘Deaf School’; probably the best poem I read all year, and it doesn’t even have any words in it. — Will Barrett, Poetry School