“Nebulous & Full of Unwrought Potential” - Review of Lumens by Adebe DeRango-Adem

You’ve been told to fear the dark; that the unknown is usually borne from what we cannot comprehend or see. Monsters and moving shapes. The dark, then, becomes synonymous with fear. With evil. With Black bodies. With stereotypes. It snowballs into a space that’s riddled with negative connotations. If the dark is a “bad place”, then they will tell you the light is where warmth, comfort and “good” resides. Dark versus light. Black versus white. A restricting dichotomy to separate and vilify.

If the dark is a “bad place”, then they will tell you the light is where warmth, comfort and “good” resides.

Adebe DeRango-Adem’s most recent poetry collection, Lumens, is a political protest against the embedded “light means right” colonial ideologies that have predominantly circulated and solidified. She examines and, most significantly, challenges these historical preconceived notions at its roots while focusing on the reclamation of darkness as a place of imagination, of good and of infinite possibilities. As an award-winning author, editor and sensitivity reader with numerous works such as Ex Nihilo, The Unmooring and Vox Humana, DeRango-Adem uses her extensive knowledge and craftsmanship to write thoughtful poetry with critical analysis—inviting readers to look beyond the scope of what they’re being given.

Not only is Lumens a visual poetry collection, but there’s obvious care and consideration put into the language and grammatical choices that’s really noteworthy! When examining themes of otherness, dichotomies and liberation, DeRango-Adem pushes that further by having the poems themselves move across the page as if they’re alive and unconfined by rigid structure.

In “waxing black / spinning gold”, there’s the feeling of various thoughts interrupting each other, yet it doesn’t feel as if one was overpowering the other. It’s a word vomit of ideas that have been suppressed for too long and you need to get them all out. It’s so damn impressive how she captures the sense of needing to be part of the conversation; of Black voices being included. Yet it also feels as if we have limited time to do so before we’re silenced again. As such, to counteract that feeling, there’s the purposeful exclusion of closing square brackets—usually indicating the interjection of another thought, ironically, in a confined way—showing that no, we’re not going to be contained in the sidelines any longer. Instead of being silenced or ignored, we’re including ourselves into this poetry collection. Add that to the way some poems are expansive and take up space across the pages and it only further suggests this notion that we won’t diminish our value, our stories, to fit within one page as we’ve been forced to believe.

Personally, “montage” is one of my other favourites in this collection. It’s abrupt. It feels chaotic. Various stanzas of everyday life are interrupted with the clinically distant “cut” that signifies moving onto the next thing to talk about. DeRango-Adem’s poetry is movement. Sometimes, it feels as if you’re missing something as you read. Your eyes jump along the pages and it’s almost overwhelming by the sheer amount of information, of thoughts and feelings poured into them. But in no way is this unintentional. There’s so much thought put into every poem that I can’t help myself from re-reading them with the added context from other sources included like Lewis Latimer, Carolyn Forché or Du Bois. Hell, even taking the time to distinguish why each poem is formed the way it is, its meaning or the use of other literary devices is an experience.

DeRango-Adem’s poetry is movement. Sometimes, it feels as if you’re missing something as you read. Your eyes jump along the pages and it’s almost overwhelming by the sheer amount of information, of thoughts and feelings poured into them.

But above all, Lumens is a political protest wrapped in a beautifully written poetry collection. Adebe DeRango-Adem harnesses the anger into a sharp criticism of systemic failures set to put Black people into restrictive parameters. Her words sometimes feel like gut punches. You feel the exasperation and anger that this has been happening for years—we shouldn’t let this continue to shape how we’re perceived. Mind you, this isn’t some manifesto telling us what to do or think. DeRango-Adem holds her hand outwards to block out the light that’s blinded us from seeing our true capabilities. It’s acknowledging: Hey, you can see this too, right? Let’s flip it and reverse it—why can’t light come from pitch black, too?

There is still and always will be hope. Even if you have to wrangle it for yourself and turn things on its head to achieve it. It’ll take the dismantling of a system that’s sole purpose is to oppress and disadvantage othered groups. We are not some backdrop or false example for others to say what they “shouldn’t be”. We are nebulous—full of potentiality—and infinite.

Adebe DeRango-Adem is the author of five full-length poetry books to date. Her poem, Vox Genus / Provectus,” was selected by poet Sonia Sanchez as the winner of the 2021 Boston Review Annual Poetry Contest. In 2023, her fourth poetry collection Vox Humana (Book*hug Press, 2022) won the Raymond Souster Award. In the same year, her poem “Aria Apocalypta” from Lumens was longlisted for the CBC Poetry Prize. In 2024, her poem “Song of Sheba” was featured on Toronto public transit and presented at the Aga Khan Museum in Toronto for Nuit Blanche. She lives in Toronto.

Publisher: Brick Books (February 23, 2027)
Paperback: 6″ x 9″ | 120 pages
ISBN: 9781771316859

Alicia Beggs-Holder

With a BA in English from Toronto Metropolitan University, Alicia Beggs-Holder has experience editing and reviewing various literary works. Possessed with boundless curiosity, she’s an avid pursuer of anything interesting. From folklore to insects, she’s a “spooky” enthusiast with a passion for all literature and writing short stories or dabbling in traditional art.