Don't Do It - We Love You, My Heart by Jonathan Fink
Review by Tatiana Avdelas
Don’t Do it—We Love You, My Heart is a collection that pushes us, the reader, to recognize why we choose empathy. The first poem repeats the title of the collection, and places us on the George Washington bridge. A man named Julio De Leon prevents a boy from jumping, a boy he knows nothing about. Despite this, he holds him, clutching fingers, “knotted roots that he shakes loose.” Is there any reason why we should limit our compassion?
Fink pushes us towards this question and rethinking through a historical lens in the poem “A Brief History of Execution.” A fascinating movement of fifty sections that starts with the earliest laws of “justifiable execution” to the story of Frano Selak, a man with seven near death experiences who won the lottery. I found myself with my jaw dropped in my first reading. How could the social implications and influence of money hold no impact on a man who has suffered? Does such suffering lead to compassion? Can we live without suffering and still hold compassion? These are questions I found myself pondering in regard to the concept of execution. Fink complicates the idea of compassion with the idea of justice. Does compassion exist through justice? Can it exist in the systems we’ve built?
The associative writing Fink explores, such as the instance where Jackie Kennedy introduces Aeschylus’s writings to Robert Kennedy, sparks inspiration for connections that have been overlooked. It’s a testament to the larger social conversation we are all living in. It starts with the individual and branches out into a forest of shared experiences. He expands on Aeschylus by connecting to animals as a use for such execution practices.
18.
Aeschylus, the father of tragedy, believed that knowledge arises from suffering
20.
In 456 BC, Aeschylus himself, the legend claims, was executed when
an eagle dropped a tortoise from the sky.
21.
Animals figure prominently in execution lore.
I can’t leave out the poem I believe to be the heart of this collection. “Something Useful” is about the speaker tending to a neighbor’s faulty alarm system while he’s out of town for his son’s wedding. How is there no fire amidst an alert? Fink has taken an instance that seems so mundane and turned it into a pillar for the collection. The recognition of life, death, the passage of time, the neighbors’ dogs barking at a faulty warning.
on the doors, testing for warmth
as I was taught as a child, each doorknob
cold to the touch, like the hands of the dead,
I can’t help but think, around me the mechanized
dogs refusing to heel, the dogs not immortal,
of course, but reflexive, residual….
These internal observations show an intent and careful layering in Fink’s craft. Everything that has been discovered is interlaced in this poem. Through the medical journals the speaker’s neighbor lends, “the interrelation of systems and art.” It is a moment that is so narrow but commands the readers to expand themselves into the larger social picture. And it’s done with such care and precision. The language is casual, observant, and particular, making this reading very accessible. It creates a pace that forces us to pause but pushes us forward.
Don’t Do it—We Love You, My Heart is a reminder of why we need poetry. It’s an art that reminds readers of interconnectedness. Our systems, our morals, our culture, and of course our humanity. Through the careful attention of personal anecdotes and history, Fink recognizes the need for a deeper understanding of the individual, and how we are weaved and interlocked without knowing.
Fink pushes us towards this question and rethinking through a historical lens in the poem “A Brief History of Execution.” A fascinating movement of fifty sections that starts with the earliest laws of “justifiable execution” to the story of Frano Selak, a man with seven near death experiences who won the lottery. I found myself with my jaw dropped in my first reading. How could the social implications and influence of money hold no impact on a man who has suffered? Does such suffering lead to compassion? Can we live without suffering and still hold compassion? These are questions I found myself pondering in regard to the concept of execution. Fink complicates the idea of compassion with the idea of justice. Does compassion exist through justice? Can it exist in the systems we’ve built?
The associative writing Fink explores, such as the instance where Jackie Kennedy introduces Aeschylus’s writings to Robert Kennedy, sparks inspiration for connections that have been overlooked. It’s a testament to the larger social conversation we are all living in. It starts with the individual and branches out into a forest of shared experiences. He expands on Aeschylus by connecting to animals as a use for such execution practices.
18.
Aeschylus, the father of tragedy, believed that knowledge arises from suffering
20.
In 456 BC, Aeschylus himself, the legend claims, was executed when
an eagle dropped a tortoise from the sky.
21.
Animals figure prominently in execution lore.
I can’t leave out the poem I believe to be the heart of this collection. “Something Useful” is about the speaker tending to a neighbor’s faulty alarm system while he’s out of town for his son’s wedding. How is there no fire amidst an alert? Fink has taken an instance that seems so mundane and turned it into a pillar for the collection. The recognition of life, death, the passage of time, the neighbors’ dogs barking at a faulty warning.
on the doors, testing for warmth
as I was taught as a child, each doorknob
cold to the touch, like the hands of the dead,
I can’t help but think, around me the mechanized
dogs refusing to heel, the dogs not immortal,
of course, but reflexive, residual….
These internal observations show an intent and careful layering in Fink’s craft. Everything that has been discovered is interlaced in this poem. Through the medical journals the speaker’s neighbor lends, “the interrelation of systems and art.” It is a moment that is so narrow but commands the readers to expand themselves into the larger social picture. And it’s done with such care and precision. The language is casual, observant, and particular, making this reading very accessible. It creates a pace that forces us to pause but pushes us forward.
Don’t Do it—We Love You, My Heart is a reminder of why we need poetry. It’s an art that reminds readers of interconnectedness. Our systems, our morals, our culture, and of course our humanity. Through the careful attention of personal anecdotes and history, Fink recognizes the need for a deeper understanding of the individual, and how we are weaved and interlocked without knowing.
Jonathan Fink, Don't Do It - We Love You, My Heart. Dzanc Books, January 2025.
ISBN: 9781938603167
ISBN: 9781938603167
