'Dismissing the myth of poetry as precious self-expression outside of capitalism, Naughton’s writing consistently reflects on the mechanisms behind it. In You Could Never Objectify Me, Naughton points out that as soon as she publishes her intimate thoughts, they — and she — become commodities to be consumed. “I do make myself a product, but so do so many other people on the internet,” she said recently in a video chat. “This is what we have, this is what we’re working with.”
But what’s most interesting about Naughton’s take on the topic is her decided ambivalence about it. She writes: I don’t want you to like my writing because you want to fuck me/I want you to want to fuck me because you like my writing … identity as masturbation fantasy. Rather than shying away from the implications that her online persona has on her sense of identity, she revels in the failings of that dichotomy, provocatively stoking a fire under questions about self and selling out that she doesn’t propose to answer.
Naughton’s reaction to feeling objectified is to intensify that simplification of her personality to the point of absurdity, packing on perceived vulnerability until it becomes a deflective shield. “Before you can decide how weak I am, I’m just going to completely skewer myself so that you can’t do that to me,” she said. “Here I am just completely embarrassing myself or exposing myself so that you can’t.”'
- Sarah Burke, "Stick a fork in Alexandra Naughton"
"Alexandra Naughton's poems are subversive, honest poems. They are in the spirit of resistance to dudebro culture and beefpizzle literature. This book is a heartless and utter rejection of the white cis male death grip on all our lives."
- Dena Rash Guzman, Life Cycle (Dog On A Chain Press, 2013)
Authored by Alexandra Naughton Cover design or artwork by Geoff Melville Edited by A. Razor US Trade Paper Trim Size: 5" x 8" Color: Black and White Related Categories: Poetry / Women Authors
Alexandra Naughton is a writer based in Richmond, California. She is the founder and editor-in-chief of Be About It Press, established in 2010.
She is the author of six poetry collections including You Could Never Objectify Me More Than I've Already Objectified Myself (Punk Hostage Press, 2015), I Will Always Be In Love (Paper Press, 2015), and I Wish You Never Emailed Me (Ghost City Press, 2016). Her first novel, American Mary, was published by Civil Coping Mechanisms in 2016.
Her writing has been widely published on the web and in print, and she performs regularly in the Bay Area and elsewhere.
Find her on instagram, twitter, facebook, patreon
For bookings and other inqueries, please email bookingnaughton@gmail.com.
Naughton's work straddles the line between fiction and non-fiction, prose and poetry, and explores themes such as self-objectification, existentialism, the frailty of text-based communication, and capitalism.
In a review of her first poetic novel, American Mary, on the literary website Heavy Feather Review, Eric Nguyen wrote: “Naughton is clearly more of a conceptual writer, one who at once challenges and entertains. Her characters are reflections of systems—systems of oppression, as well as systems of support. She can be playful and deeply serious and—by the last pages of American Mary, as the book takes on a monologue quality—very powerful. In the end, Naughton does what [other internet writers] could not: be avant-garde not only in form, but politics as well.”
Dismissing the myth of poetry as precious self-expression outside of capitalism, Naughton’s writing consistently reflects on the mechanisms behind it. In You Could Never Objectify Me, Naughton points out that as soon as she publishes her intimate thoughts, they — and she — become commodities to be consumed. “I do make myself a product, but so do so many other people on the internet,” she said recently in a video chat. “This is what we have, this is what we’re working with.”
But what’s most interesting about Naughton’s take on the topic is her decided ambivalence about it. She writes: I don’t want you to like my writing because you want to fuck me/I want you to want to fuck me because you like my writing … identity as masturbation fantasy. Rather than shying away from the implications that her online persona has on her sense of identity, she revels in the failings of that dichotomy, provocatively stoking a fire under questions about self and selling out that she doesn’t propose to answer.
Naughton’s reaction to feeling objectified is to intensify that simplification of her personality to the point of absurdity, packing on perceived vulnerability until it becomes a deflective shield. “Before you can decide how weak I am, I’m just going to completely skewer myself so that you can’t do that to me,” she said. “Here I am just completely embarrassing myself or exposing myself so that you can’t.”
This book will deceive you. What appears at first to be an expulsion of thoughts turns out to be an intentional, intelligent commentary on society, on objectification, the toxicity of some relationships and so on. It becomes an essay, it becomes a poem, it reads fast and then it stays with you, the blank space just as much a poem as the rest. It's hard for me to imagine anyone, whether they be an avid literary type or a casual reader, not accessing the power of this book upon reading it. Alexandra Naughton has a distinct voice that is equal parts vulnerable and caustic. It's hard to fight honesty. You could never objectify Alexandra as much as she objectifies her self, and that's the power in these pages - the ammunition of our own personal truth pushing back against a broken world.
the last quarter is what really got me and cemented this book as being "good". Alexandra conjures images of powerful forces of nature and detritus to express her feelings about a variety of (what I believe to be unhealthy, failing) interpersonal relationships. it takes the book a while to hit its stride, imo, but it takes less than an hour to read, so nbd. I also appreciate her use of negative space. I initially had trouble discerning whether the book was meant to be read as individual poems or a single body of work, but it is made clear that the latter was intended.