In the Defense of Banned Books: milk and honey

“How many times have I felt something so intense, so immense, something that I
considered indescribable, to then find out that Rupi had already described it with the most
perfect-precise words?” --Carlota Guerrero (pg. 34, 10th anniversary collectors edition). This is
exactly why Rupi Kaur’s debut book has sold over 6 million copies and sat on the New York
Time’s bestseller list for 4 years.

“I was living these poems as I wrote them--perhaps that’s why they feel so raw,” writes
Kaur in the pages of her 10th anniversary collectors edition. This raw vulnerability comes
through on the first page, in her introductory poem, “my heart woke me crying last night / how
can i help i begged / my heart said / write the book.” The next 4 chapters are filled with gut
wrenching, impactful lines about love, sex, assault, heartbreak, and healing. Yes, this book talks
about sex and sexual assault. These are tough topics, but they need to be talked about because
holding onto them is painful. Finding ways to express that pain--reading, writing, talking
about it--is important when it comes to healing. What makes this book such a powerful tool is
that Kaur herself has experienced the trauma she's describing, and that raw, relatable vulnerability gives the reader a hand
to hold onto while they heal, just as writing the book was healing for Kaur herself. “You split me
open in the most honest way there is to split a soul open and forced me to write at a time I was
sure I could not write again,” Kaur writes in her poem titled “thank you.”

Kaur talks about tough topics-- “you have sadness living in places sadness shouldn’t
live,” (pg. 45, 10th anniversary collector’s edition). She describes exactly why the good parts of
a relationship make it so hard to leave, even when it’s hurting you. She talks about the bad parts
too, about how when you start to reach your breaking point you turn into someone else--
someone who fights back and becomes exactly like the person they’re afraid of. She explains
that despite it all you still want something to hold on to, and “how can our love die if it’s written in
these pages,” (pg. 146, 10th anniversary collector’s edition). She explains harsh realities
that may be hard to see when you’re under the influence of the relationship: that a
relationship filled with lust is not love, and sex where both parties don’t
consent is rape.

She talks about sisterhood, and what it means to be a woman in a patriarchal
society that stigmatizes women’s bodies. She writes about sensuality in a world in which “letting
yourself feel pleasure is a radical act,” expresses Camila Cabello (pg. 188, 10th anniversary
collector’s edition). Even more importantly, she reminds women that they are so much more
than their looks in a world that capitalizes on physical insecurities.

The poems may be a little dramatic, which Kaur acknowledges with her added annotations in the
10th anniversary collectors edition--affectionate notes like “talk about dramatic!” and “younger
me wasn’t playing,” are written within the pages (pg. 69, 156). However, that’s just part of the
intense emotions which everyone feels at the age she wrote the book. The teenage years and early twenties are
filled with emotions too intense to hold on to, but you can’t grow until you’ve completely felt them
and moved through them.

The book captures you like a story, and can be read chronologically. While Kaur’s
individual poems are detailed when they need to be, she doesn’t describe it like the events of a
story. She doesn’t need to, for while I was reading it I filled in the missing pieces myself, and felt my own
story written out alongside hers.

This book is powerful, beautiful, and healing in so many ways. For those reasons, milk
and honey should remain accessible in Utah.