Book review #9
Charlott reads 'Gedichte einer schönen Frau'

40 years after its publication, Charlott reads Guy St. Louis’ Gedichte einer schönen Frau [Poems of a Pretty Lady] for #Vorzeichen and receives more than a fascinating glimpse into a moment of Black, queer, lesbian history.


A portrait of a young white woman wearing sunglasses and headphones can be seen. Trees and a path can be seen in the background. In the top right corner is a semi-transparent hashtag sign and above it the word Vorzeichen in white. In the bottom right corner is the logo of the Goethe-Institut.  © Charlott Schönwetter The first time I encountered Gedichte einer schönen Frau by Guy St. Louis was in a discussion about the first books published by Black women in Germany. I’m happy to have discovered this book, but ever since, I’ve also wondered what is accomplished through the selective designation of being 'the first.' This falsely suggests a scarcity of literary accomplishments, resources, and attention. This focus on being 'the first' is often a notable attribute for literature by marginalized authors. Inevitably, individual works are singled out, frequently removed from the history of larger movements, and acknowledged in isolation. This label of 'the first' is still employed as a marketing tool today to underscore a work’s significance, though I often wonder whether the second, third, or fourth work of a particular group might not have every bit as much exciting literary potential.

In their essay, Schwarzes feministisches Denken und Handeln in Deutschland [Black Feminist Thought and Action in Germany], Maisha M. Auma and Sabine Mohamed also warn against this kind of isolation, positioning Guy St. Louis instead in the context of broader movements and communities when they highlight her work: “The early anti-heteronormative positionings in the poetic and performance works of Guy Nzingha St. Louis are characteristic of feminist structures in the Black anti-racist movement in Germany.” This (re)reading of the work, but also other older books, seems productive on many levels.

Gedichte einer schönen Frau impresses from the start. Guy St. Louis calls out “saboteurs,” “orators,” “bureaus,” and “work” as factors that obstruct, devalue, (mis)manage, and “ghettoize” life, positioning the lyric speaker—“and i/born July 31, 1957/guy st. louis”—against them. This unnamed poem at once sets the tone, style, and textual components of the whole: the self-assertion and self-awareness of the lyric speaker vis-à-vis multiple forms of resistance.

The book ‘Gedichte einer schönen Frau’ lies on a duvet striped with pink, red and green. © Charlott Schönwetter

The collection first appeared in 1983 with Verlag Gudula Lorenz, a publisher of erotic and feminist literature, and the book includes poetry in German, as well as a few poems written in English. Guy St. Louis dedicates many of the poems to themes of desire, the erotic, and BDSM, but also frequently turns to topics like fear, loneliness, and her work as a caregiver—often with the terminally ill. Experiences of oppression appear as a constant throughout; although they seldom represent the explicit subject of the poems, they provide part of the framework for the experiences of the lyric speaker.

The poetic language is frequently brutal and direct. It spells out violent fantasies. But the poems are also punctuated by tender notes. The individual lines of verse are often composed of only a few words. Guy St. Louis employs repetition, both structural and through individual words, to create a driving rhythm. Collectively, the poems depict a complex and contradictory life with a captivating and highly individualized language.

Reading Gedichte einer schönen Frau more than 40 years after its initial publication provides a fascinating glimpse into a moment of Black, queer, lesbian history, but these are poems still capable of moving and addressing readers today, prompting discussions of violence, desire, and the search for language.