So Long

Piecing Life Together Through Grief: So Long by Jen Levitt, reviewed by Rebecca Samuelson


When it comes to memory, events are rarely recalled in chronological order. A song can spark a thought from the past, or you can spend an entire afternoon reminiscing about childhood influences. So Long is a collection that uses memory to process difficult concepts, such as the death of a parent, life as a caretaker, and how being a daughter informs all of these roles. Jen Levitt understands that grief is not a linear process, and she employs these poems to show the vulnerability in that acceptance.

Starting with the cover image of an empty chair by Zachary Schomburg, we can already see that a dramatic contemplation on the cyclical nature of life is set in motion. The empty chair depicted in this painting can signify sitting alone with your thoughts, which is something that happens often when you are caretaking. Paired with the implications of the title, time remains a pivotal tool to fully grasping this book. The phrase “so long” usually means goodbye, but in this context, Levitt is able to make this phrase transform into what fits the moment. Sometimes it refers to a drawn out illness, like her father’s cancer diagnosis that feels like it will never end. Other times, it illuminates a string of connection through lifetimes that you desperately try to hold on to. Even before you open the book, the reader is already situated in a reflective state.

This act of looking back is immediately enacted with the first poem. The collection is divided into three numbered sections, but starts with the piece “After” (1) before section one opens. A grief timeline is set up by intentionally choosing to begin the stanzas with words such as “at first”, “then”, and “now”, which can capture days or years in three short stanzas. It seems particularly interesting to begin this poem, which is outside of the numbered order, with a stanza that goes back in time:

At first, it was like trying to live
in a human-sized aquarium, with everyone

watching me come up for air. (1-3)

Feeling like you are on display is something that anyone who has experienced grief can identify with. Whether it’s because others are worried about you, or because you feel suffocated by the situation, these lines continue the thread of thinking about how we view the world after a significant loss.

As the collection continues, Levitt is able to encapsulate family relationships and the progression of a serious illness by utilizing different forms. We shift from a series of justified poems, which feel like standard recollection to quatrains, where the fullness of experience is expressed in four lines. Then we switch to couplets, which feel almost as if they mirror the speaker and her father at times. These shifts, along with intentional line breaks, feel impactful when cascading through time with the speaker.

The shifts culminate in the title poem “So Long” (27–41), which is a multiple section piece that takes up the entire second section of the book. The section starts with a phone call with the speaker’s dad. Hearing her father’s cough instigates the process of contemplating “what’s next” for a parent while trying to navigate daily life. By the time the reader gets to section five (31), the impact on the family is undeniably being felt. From beginning the piece with “All the diners we sit in after doctor’s appointments:” (1) to “The silences, thick, cloudy, only amplify our habits” (9), it’s clear that each family member is impacted by this illness.

Levitt gives a unique perspective as an adult, caretaker, and daughter. She describes the different ways her father depends on her: whether it’s through a desperate phone call, or making sure he is safe on the train while her brother rejoices with him at a baseball game. These poems demonstrate how communication changes when you are seen as a child or a caregiver. It even impacts sibling dynamics, where one is suffering through the hardship while the other only reaps the rewards.

By focusing on her father, she is also able to discover more about herself. This is made apparent in section 13 (39):

On his bureau the leather wallet stuffed with receipts
& the baseball cap he’s always losing. By the fireplace
a monogrammed briefcase he hasn’t used in years,
what time accumulates. I know he’s going to miss all this, (5-8)

Here the speaker is thinking about what all of her father’s belongings represent. From casual store purchases to changes in career paths (due to sickness), she is remembering his life before it ends. However, this examination quickly flips with the closing line:

I got it wrong, above. It’s we who will miss him in it. (14)

Individual belongings become more indicative and meaningful once a person has passed away. The speaker takes the time to realize that this loss will be reminded to her by the pieces her father left behind.

Throughout the collection, the poems seem to operate in a liminal space. At times they capture reflection, then shift to hindsight in an instant. There is a feeling of gratitude while processing the decline of a parent, which appears to only be possible through the organic, stylistic decisions in the poems. Whether it’s punctuation, caesura, or multiple sections at the center of the book, these changes make this act of propelling, while simultaneously rewinding, possible. There is also this intentional attempt to observe life events to avoid getting caught in a grief spiral. This attempt is most felt in “Throw the Rest Back” (55–56), where the speaker depicts the loss of a friendship and the loss of her father. A surprising, extended moment of regret is felt towards the end of the book:

But more, I want to stop tending, like a mother,

my old shames—all the people I could have
been, in all the rooms, if words had left my mouth. (22-24)

There is a regret for what didn’t happen in life, or what can never take place now. The speaker points toward wanting one more conversation with her dad and longing in other areas. Time passing makes this longing feel endless, which ultimately brings the reader full circle back to the title of the book.

So Long is a collection that is as much about life as it is about death. It is able to leave such a lasting impression, because it does not reduce grief to a singular experience. Levitt demonstrates how life directions and feelings can change as time goes on. Although there is no solution provided to end the experiences of loss or incessant review, these poems serve as a reminder that you have to learn to just keep going. No matter how long it takes. 


So Long by Jen Levitt, published by Four Way Books, March 2023. 88 pages.


Rebecca Samuelson is a Bay Area poet from Hayward, California who writes from the intersection of caretaking and grief. She received her MFA in creative writing, with a concentration in poetry, from Saint Mary’s College of California. She received a BA in English, with a concentration in creative writing, from San Francisco State University. Her work can be found at rebecca-samuelson.com.

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