On Enjoying a Whole Issue of Poetry
With an illustration of an un-struck match on its front cover, this issue of Poetry is, for me, (potentially) the one hottest in while. I say for me because who knows what opens a person to poems, or essays about poems, and when or why. I sometimes think that when I am drawn in to writing—poems or otherwise—it has more to do with my state of mind than anything else. Because, are there not always great poems to read? I’m not always prepared, willing, or open to them—is all. Evidently, happily, not the case presently.
I am over-eager for Les Murray and easily pleased by him. Meaning, I’m not an expert. Just enough of an Aussie and enough of a poet to really enjoy him with little resistance. I thought Michael Hofmann’s review of Les Murray’s Taller When Prone was a gutsy piece. I mean, gathering it together to approach a singular premise in which to frame a discussion of a book of Murray’s poems is admirable. And he manages to place this latest book of Murray’s as, if not among the best in his oeuvre, still better than just about anything else one could read. He also takes a critical look at a reissue of Murray’s earlier Black Dog book that charts (not really the right word) Murray’s struggles with depression. I’d agree, while not my favourite book due to its subject matter and therefore state of mind, I remember it as an affecting book less because of its insights into his own self, and more because it helped me think better (easier?) of those in my own life struggling with depression. Of Murray’s non-fiction, I turn back to A Working Forrest for straight thinking on writing, life and Australia.
Yes, though mate, the joy of this piece is that it hardly mentioned Australia. It was a refreshing read for me because of this context(lessness).
But back to Taller. I read it eagerly, earlier this year and realized in reading Hoffman’s review, that I need to return to it now that it’s had time to settle. Hoffman finds it, correctly I should think, a narrower book in scope and less energetic than much of Murray’s mid-period work. Indeed, Hoffman seems nostalgic for these earlier poems and spends much (wonderful) time resurfacing them, such as “The Dream of Wearing Shorts Forever.”My own favourite Murray poem would be “The Quality of Sprawl” which he also mentions briefly. It’s so huge. Hmm. The thing about reading Murray which Hofmann more than gets across, is the sheer capacity of the man’s tank. I read his books, but I drain them of so little—there’s always much more to go back to.
Also in this issue I enjoyed Spencer Reece’s “Road to Emmaus”. I stopped wondering why it was written with line breaks and not in prose after a while due to the weight and honesty of it—a wonderful portrait and piece of writing. Though not the same thing, I recalled flashes of Quentin Crisp’s autobiography that I read many years ago and haven’t thought of in ages. Funny how that happens, the mind bouncing around from book to book, interior self to former self, whether the connections are astute or clumsy.
Finally, for this reader, All This Could Be Yours by the young Canadian poet (nationality, happily, not mentioned) Joshua Trotter was reviewed by Abigail Deutsch. I met the charming Joshua after he read at Trent University earlier this year, and read the book soon afterwards. I would say my feelings on it were similar to Ms. Deutsch’s. The guy has a very interesting mind and fine ear and if he was to tip a bit more vulnerability or perhaps personal risk into his poems, I’ll become an even bigger fan. I wanted more to be at stake I think. Mostly, though, for now I love his light touch—I wish I could do things like that. And, fine I’ll say it because I thought it, how nice to see a book of first poems published by a Canadian small press getting reviewed in those pages.
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