Morgan Parker

« Je voudrais voir ma chatte autrement et putain qu’on la respecte un peu » La voix impétueuse et enflammée d’une icône noire américaine féministe Entre narration personnelle et critique culturelle poétique et politique, Morgan Parker confronte société de consommation, médias et féminisme, tissant habilement son histoire personnelle avec la pop culture.

Magical Negro is an archive of Black everydayness, a catalog of contemporary folk heroes, an ethnography of ancestral grief, and an inventory of figureheads, idioms, and customs. These American poems are both elegy and jive, joke and declaration, songs of congregation and self-conception. They connect themes of loneliness, displacement, grief, ancestral trauma, and objectification, while exploring and troubling tropes and stereotypes of Black Americans. Focused primarily on depictions of Black womanhood alongside personal narratives, the collection tackles interior and exterior politics—of both the body and society, of both the individual and the collective experience. In Magical Negro, Parker creates a space of witness, of airing grievances, of pointing out patterns. In these poems are living documents, pleas, latent traumas, inside jokes, and unspoken anxieties situated as firmly in the past as in the present—timeless Black melancholies and triumphs.

Other People’s Comfort Keeps Me Up at Night is a powerful debut collection from a promising new and necessary voice. Parker’s collection is hyper-contemporary, drawing on what it means to be alive today when our phones autocorrect our texts and we’ve given into a kind of living that prioritizes work, money, and power over justice, equality, and happiness.

Other People’s Comfort Keeps Me Up at Night is a powerful debut collection from a promising new and necessary voice. Parker’s collection is hyper-contemporary, drawing on what it means to be alive today when our phones autocorrect our texts and we’ve given into a kind of living that prioritizes work, money, and power over justice, equality, and happiness.

In the final hours of her life, Elliot Fitch’s wife confesses that he is not the biological father to their 16-year old daughter. Surviving Goodbye follows Elliot’s collision course with Fate as he embarks on a journey to locate his daughter’s real father. When Elena, now seventeen years old, announces her unplanned pregnancy and the father’s unwillingness to play a role in their child’s upbringing, Elliot faces an ironic dilemma about the true meaning of parenthood and the roles we play in the lives of others, particularly those we love and who love us in return. Bad Word The f-word or some variation thereof appears 126 times (yes, that's an instance of one in every five hundred and ninety-five words) in Surviving Goodbye. Please read with care.

Katie discovers an unlocked iPhone in the back seat of a taxi. But instead of turning it in to the driver as lost, she decides to keep it for herself. Outside of the usual clutter you would expect to find on a smartphone, what captures Katie's interest is the single conversation she finds on the phone's secure text messaging service, a three-month dialogue between a woman with an uncertain past named Christine and a single, eligible man named Jake. From Strangers to Soulmates in 90 Days What starts out as a message intended for someone else ends up being the beginning of a relationship more powerful than anything Christine or Jake have ever experienced. But nothing ever turns out to be as good as it initially seems and their histories slowly reveal details and past lovers that threaten to derail their humble quest for love. Forgotten In The Back Seat of a New York City Taxi Can Christine and Jake overcome the seemingly insurmountable obstacles, doubts and secrets that endanger their love? If so, why would such a relationship get forgotten in the back seat of a New York City taxi? Presented in a Format Unlike Any Other You Will Find Follow Katie as she reads through the 3 months of conversations that form The Christine + Jake Affair and provide the foundation for the Textual Encounters Trilogy.

A TIME Magazine Best Paperback of 2017One of Oprah Magazine's "Ten Best Books of 2017" "This singular poetry collection is a dynamic meditation on the experience of, and societal narratives surrounding, contemporary black womanhood. . . . These exquisite poems defy categorization." —The New Yorker The only thing more beautiful than Beyoncé is God, and God is a black woman sipping rosé and drawing a lavender bath, texting her mom, belly-laughing in the therapist’s office, feeling unloved, being on display, daring to survive. Morgan Parker stands at the intersections of vulnerability and performance, of desire and disgust, of tragedy and excellence. Unrelentingly feminist, tender, ruthless, and sequined, these poems are an altar to the complexities of black American womanhood in an age of non-indictments and deja vu, and a time of wars over bodies and power. These poems celebrate and mourn. They are a chorus You’re gonna give us the love we need.

There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé uses political and pop-cultural references as a framework to explore 21st century black American womanhood and its complexities: performance, depression, isolation, exoticism, racism, femininity, and politics. The poems weave between personal narrative and pop-cultural criticism, examining and confronting modern media, consumption, feminism, and Blackness. This collection explores femininity and race in the contemporary American political climate, folding in references from jazz standards, visual art, personal family history, and Hip Hop. The voice of this book is a multifarious one: writing and rewriting bodies, stories, and histories of the past, as well as uttering and bearing witness to the truth of the present, and actively probing toward a new self, an actualized self. This is a book at the intersections of mythology and sorrow, of vulnerability and posturing, of desire and disgust, of tragedy and excellence.

Trapped in sunny, stifling, small-town suburbia, seventeen-year-old Morgan knows why she’s in therapy. She can’t count the number of times she’s been the only non-white person at the sleepover, been teased for her “weird” outfits, and been told she’s not “really” black. Also, she’s spent most of her summer crying in bed. So there’s that, too. Lately, it feels like the whole world is listening to the same terrible track on repeat—and it’s telling them how to feel, who to vote for, what to believe. Morgan wonders, when can she turn this song off and begin living for herself? Life may be a never-ending hamster wheel of agony, but Morgan finds her crew of fellow outcasts, blasts music like there’s no tomorrow, discovers what being black means to her, and finally puts her mental health first. She decides that, no matter what, she will always be intense, ridiculous, passionate, and sometimes hilarious. After all, darkness doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Darkness is just real.

The award-winning author of Magical Negro traces the trauma and beauty of existing as a Black woman back through American history, from the foundational trauma of the slave trade all the way up to Serena Williams and the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina Dubbed a voice of her generation, poet and writer Morgan Parker has spent much of her adulthood in therapy, trying to square the resonance of her writing with the alienation she feels in nearly every aspect of life, from her lifelong singleness to her battle with depression. She traces this loneliness to an inability to feel truly safe with others and a historic hyper-awareness stemming from the effects of slavery. In this collection of essays as intimate as being in the room with Morgan and her therapist, Morgan examines America's cultural history and relationship to Black Americans through the ages, through such topics as the ubiquity of a beauty culture that excludes Black women, the implications of Bill Cosby's fall from grace in a culture predicated on acceptance through respectability, and the pitfalls of visibility as seen through the mischaracterizations of Serena Williams as alternately iconic and too ambitious. With piercing wit and incisive observations, You Get What You Pay For is ultimately a portal into a deeper examination of racial consciousness and its effects on mental well-being in America today. Weaving unflinching criticism with intimate anecdotes, this devastating memoir-in-essays paints a portrait of one Black woman's psyche—and of the writer's search to both tell the truth and deconstruct it.