Epeolatry Book Review: Waterlore by Teika Marija Smits

I grew up near the ocean, but even if I hadn’t, I still think I would love the ocean. The salt is in my bloodstream, and the rhythm of the ocean swirls around there too. When I’m near the ocean, my head clears, and I feel clean and whole.

I even hear the ocean, although I’m very far away from it. 

I was drawn into Teika Marija Smits’s micro-collection, Waterlore, in a similar way, especially as I’ve been away from the ocean for far too long, and I continue to be haunted by the elemental memories I carry with me.

Still, I try to visit it each night just before I drift off to sleep, so reading Waterlore during that special evening-still time made the experience even more profound. 

The ocean carries the comforting security of a home I once knew but can’t return to, in a full-on immersion way, and yet also carries a mysterious unknown element that feels slightly sinister. 

Smits’s tales have that same evocative feeling—it reminds me of my innate connection to the ocean as a place that’s safe and still and protective, and yet also reminds me that the ocean is impartial to my mundane, plodding plight on the surface.

Her magic is chimerical, but it’s also not for me, yet I still try to hold onto it between my clumsy fingers. 

Such is the terrifyingly delicious poetry that’s contained within these stories.

The ocean is both inscrutably powerful and heartbreakingly delicate, and the horror is us, as Waterlore reminds the reader.

I highly recommend this tiny, yet similarly powerful, collection.

As a parting thought, this was my first introduction to a Black Shuck book. Smits’s polished collection of watery tales, as a micro-representation of the quality material this press publishes, has lured me into the deep end of the Black Shuck literary pool.

/5

Available from Amazon and Bookshop.