The moving title section comprises a series of journal excerpts that both frighten and inspire: choosing not to have a biopsy, she instead treats the disease with a stay at the homeopathic Lukas Klinik in Switzerland, consultations with more traditional medical specialists and alternatives like self-hypnosis.
She was one of the first black feminists to target heteronormativity, and to encourage black feminists to expand their understanding of erotic pleasure.
She amplified anti-oppression, even as breast cancer ravaged her ailing body. She married in and divorced inafter having two children. Other poems express a daughter's anger toward her mother; still others eschew anger for affirmation and inspiration, which are represented as coming from lesbian love and traditional African myths because, as Lorde has said, "the master's tools will not dismantle the master's house.
Learning not to crumple before these uncertainties fuels my resolve to print myself upon the texture of each day fully rather than forever. From reflections on her struggle with the disease to thoughts on lesbian sexuality and African-American identity in a straight white man's world, Lorde's voice remains enduringly relevant in today's political landscape.
I am going to write fire until it comes out my ears, my eyes, my noseholes — everywhere. I am a scar, a report from the frontlines, a talisman, a resurrection. Empowering read. Lorde announces the need for a radical politics of intersectionality while struggling to maintain her own faith as she wages a battle against liver cancer.