By the time I had reached climax, I was already so inmersed on the story I could not put it down. I wanted to know everything about these penguins and their lives. I empathized with them, I became one with the penguins. Lastly, I would like to say that the illustrations inside the book match the poems perfectly and that both the author and the illustrator did a great work.

The collection's hybrid form—a "play-in-verse"—allows Davis to utilize theatrical techniques that heighten the spectacle of ecological catastrophe while maintaining intimate emotional resonance. The author's language oscillates between wry observation and raw exasperation, creating a rhythmic tension that mirrors the precarious existence of her penguin protagonists.

A poignant albeit sometimes raunchy metaphor for climate change and environmentalism told mostly through the eyes of penguins.

"Penguin Noir," as the title suggests, fuses noir with anthropomorphism. One probes the cruelty and strangeness of the world; the other assigns human traits to non-human beings. Together, they mount a thrilling takedown of Man’s god complex.

Davis’ novel-in-verse centers on this complex, fracturing freedom into a cage and exposing the clinical pornography of human-controlled insemination. In doing so, it strips away the illusion of human exceptionalism. By blending poetry with dramatic writing, it then confidently challenges the belief that humanity stands apart from the animal kingdom—the very same it oppresses, whether for gain or enjoyment.

Though the narrative is bleak, its execution is spectacular. Words—aching, violent, and suggestive—mirror emotional states and physical experiences through rhythm and form, drawing the reader into their pattern.

Every mind can glimpse fragments of itself in "Penguin Noir"’s cast: the female penguin aching for a child, the multitude dreaming of freedom in a world governed by human hands, or the spectacle-starved zoogoer, gazing on in hollow awe. Davis goes further still, drawing a sharp parallel between the destructive love of life that seeks to cage and possess, and the human world where life itself becomes a threat.

More precisely, the fear of its loss expands into a cell of its own—one that won't let the mind rest while humanity continues to inflict its greatest horrors upon itself. Yet Davis’ language, far from crushing, traces every boundary with exquisite care; its muscled membrane thrums beneath the mind's fingertips, delivering a subtle but relentless pressure.

In the end, "Penguin Noir" presses its beak against the language of dominion and control, warping it just enough to reveal its cracks. In that distortion lies a truth we rarely confront: that even our most human impulses—love, grief, longing—are not ours alone.

A beautiful and painfully poignant anthology of poems. At first I had no idea where this was going. But then I relaxed into it, as I began to recognize the skill and subtly at work. In sone moments, the hurt and trauma actually made me feel ill. And the ending made me question everything I had just read, I think I need to read it multiple times. Overall, a bit too short, and the poetry is fast and loose. But it is still full of muscle, emotion, and blood.

My thanks to NetGalley and Livingston Press (press of the U of West Alabama) for the eARC of this book.
A short novel in verse, about penguins in captivity at an aquaworld type place for tourists (and locals with kids, as is the narrator here).
Quite unique, and it does work.
Some issues - the formatting of the book as an ebook is more than a bit garbled, so it is hard to tell when sections begin and end. And not sure the font size changes were meant as part of the piece, or were caused by the change in media type from print to ebook. We also lose the powerful illustrations of Cheryl Gross - they are small, thumbnail sized images here, and in black and white.
I am also not quite sure how it is "noir". A bit gritty? And the last section (Epilogue was it called?) about the narrator/author experiencing a police run "shooting incident" exercise at her school does not really seem to connect to the rest of the book.
Still, insightful (in all of its anthropomorphism), humorous, inventive.
4 out of 5.

I'm really not into poetry, but I got drawn in by the title of this one. I'm still not into poetry, but I liked the story connecting most of the poems in this book, and the poems that took the shape of penguins were cute. It's hard to imagine the way the art will look in print from seeing the arc here. I am guessing the art is supposed to be in color, so if that is the case and the book is nicely formatted on nice materials, this could be a lovely little book.

A rollercoaster of emotions, this fantastic anthology left me mournful, hysterical, and contemplative. We explore the inner thoughts of the individual penguins and commiserate. Are these simply anthropomorphized ideas or is this the consequence of humans audacity to interfere in the natural world?