September 17, 2008

Reviewed by Gilbert Purdy

WHAT LOVE COMES TO: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS
by Ruth Stone

Copper Canyon Press
PO Box 271
Building 313
Fort Worden State Park
Port Townsend WA 98368
ISBN 1-55659-271-3
2008, 383 pp., $32.00 cloth
www.coppercanyonpress.org

The Belle of Goshen

The first letters of the lines of Ruth Stone’s poem “Acrostic” spell “Walter Stone PhD.” The lines begun by those letters compose one of 68 new poems that appear in What Love Comes To: New and Selected Poems. Those 68 poems are quite enough to compose a healthy volume in themselves and a notable largesse compared to the mere handful of new poems generally provided in the “New and Selected” format in recent times. In fact, they are designated, after the same fashion as the previous volumes, as Stone’s most recent: What Love Comes To (2008).

Ruth Stone’s late husband, Walter, an associate professor at Vassar College, hanged himself on March 11, 1959. He was in England at the time. In the bluntly prosaic words of David Slavitt’s “Elegy to Walter Stone”:

In London, on a grant
to study Renaissance eschatology,
the late professor and poet, Walter Stone,
committed suicide:… (1)

Walter left Ruth and three young daughters behind to go on without his person or paycheck.

Ruth herself would have a great deal to say, in her own poems, about the life and death of the husband with whom she has never stopped living to this day. In the poem “Coffee and Sweet Rolls,” selected from the volume Simplicity (1995), she revels in the forbidden, bohemian nature of their early love:

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September 13, 2008

Review by Cameron Conaway

DISCLAMOR
by G.C. Waldrep

BOA Editions, LTD
250 N. Goodman Street, Suite 306
Rochester, NY 14607
ISBN: 978-1-929918-97-3
2007, 99 pp., $16.00
www.boaeditions.org

Prior to beginning this review, I placed my computer and Disclamor on the patio table to begin writing. My cell phone rang. I ran in the house to grab it. I came back to the patio table to find a bird had shit all over G.C.’s book. It was warm and when I wiped it, it smeared. This is not a sign as most things I view in nature to be. G.C.’s Disclamor in no way resembles in shape or texture the black and white Pollock-like shit deposited on the cover. This goes for meaning too. In no way is Disclamor ‘shit.’ But I’ve never had a book of poems shit on, so it seemed worth mentioning. On to the review.

Most of the explorations of this book in prior reviews concern “The Batteries,” a sequence of poems from and about the gun emplacements in what formerly had been Forts Barry and Cronkhite overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge. The series has won awards and seems to be the way this book is “pushed” but it was not where I felt Waldrep was at his best. At times throughout this book, word choice became overly “academic,” pulling away from the poem’s meaning. “Google” poetry doesn’t interest me a whole lot. I want to sit down, outside, without birds shitting on me, to read, enjoy, and engage with a book of poems. It became difficult for me to do because of an elevated diction that didn’t seem context-appropriate.

Conversely, when the diction fit the work, there were times where I was shook to my core with the beauty of Waldrep’s poetry. Associational leaps mix with meditative-declaratives to create a natural synergy that allows the speaker to be believable. From the poem “Cloud of Witnesses”:

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September 7, 2008

Review by Paula Marafino Bernett

TALKING UNDERWATER
Sally Bliumis-Dunn

Wind Publications, 2007
600 Overbrook Drive
Nicholasville, KY 40356
ISBN: 978-1-893239-69-2
103 pp. $15.00
www.windpub.com

There’s beauty, intelligence and a keen poetic eye at work among the 77 poems collected in Sally Bliumis-Dunn’s Talking Underwater. But too often the poems feel as if they’ve been transmitted from an underwater place (the title poem isn’t happened on until page 85), only infrequently bursting through the surface to present the reader with an accomplished, realized poem.

There’s aspiration too, evident in a wealth of strong phrases, ambitious ideas, and pulses of energy that promise much, but often fail to deliver.

In Section I, the poem “Not Seeing” begins with this strong opening: “…everything is too much/ what it has been/ and not enough/ what it is.” These lines are obliquely supported by the example of the leaf, which does not do them justice. Then comes the line “… I see nothing/ in your hand…” and as I’m struggling to connect this thought to the opening, an inchworm wrapping itself in a leaf enters the poem, arguably very much what it is, and I’m lost.

“Leaving for College” gives us another strong set of lines:

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September 2, 2008

Review by Cameron Conaway

HERE IN THE BIG EMPTY
by Mark Sanders

The Backwaters Press
3502 North 52nd Street
Omaha, Nebraska 68104-3506
ISBN: 0-9765231-4-0
92 pp., $16.00
www.thebackwaterspress.com

“Plain speech for a plain people” is the opening line of poetry in Here in the Big Empty. And it is shortly after this declarative, colon-ending line that the few negatives of the book present themselves. Opening a book review with the less-than-fabulous is often a precursor to a vicious barrage. The opposite is the case here. And for some readers, of course, the negatives may very well be positives.

Plain speech for a plain people:
weather-words gray as old lumber;
old sheds and old houses
sitting on the tilted legs of wind; (11)

This opening stanza of the poem “Plain Sense” attempts to set the stage for what is to come. William Carlos Williams comes to mind. The way he fought for writing of everyday circumstances in the lives of people. The way his language was often accessible but rich to readers on various levels. Instead, what happens is unexpected. Shifts from plain speech–often stunningly concrete–language like the above quote paired side by side to much-less discernable abstractions. Lines like “verbs the cranes dancing” and “an idea through black dirt.” Some may view the shift as pure versatility, but the leaps feel jarring the majority of the time, and might make a reader feel in the poem one stanza and completely removed the next. Eventually, the reader will be brought back in with some perfect detail or Rumi-esque meditative line. The need to point out the issue has been addressed.

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August 28, 2008

Review by C. St. Pérez

SO WE HAVE BEEN GIVEN TIME OR
by Sawako Nakayasu

Verse Press/Wave Books
1938 Fairview Avenue East
Suite 201
Seattle, WA 98102
ISBN: 0-9746353-0-8
2004, 106pp., $13.00
www.wavepoetry.com

Antonin Artaud, in “The Theater of Cruelty,” urges to “abolish the stage and the auditorium and replace them by a single site, without partition or barrier of any kind, which will become the theater of the action.” Sawako Nakayasu’s So We Have Been Given Time Or constructs this borderless site and blurs the line between theater and poetry to allow “the magical means of art and speech to be exercised organically and altogether, like renewed exorcism” (Artaud).

This book opens by violently subverting the logic of playwriting tags*:

Characters:

geography enthusiast, twice removed.
brother, as in your.
or as in oh.
young Czech intellectual, female.
estranged or expatriated cousin, male.
young man of marrying age, recent dumpee.
his too-kind mother, a goose.
owner of the voice on the answering machine.
soccer player whiffing a penalty kick.
bartender outside of his natural environment.
innocent spectators […] (1)

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August 23, 2008

Review by Karen J. Weyant

MY FLORIDA
by Kathleen Tyler

The Backwaters Press
3502 North 52nd Street
Omaha, Nebraska 68104-3506
ISBN: 978-0-9793934-6-4
70 pp., $16
www.thebackwaterspress.com

Palm trees swaying on sandy shorelines. Couples walking hand-in-hand into sunsets. College students going wild on spring break. Certainly, these images of Florida are often the first pictures that come to mind when we think of our Sunshine State. Kathleen Tyler’s My Florida, however, delivers a much darker landscape.

Tyler’s first poem, “Ars Poetica,” is significant to this collection. While “an art of poetry” poem seems to be a somewhat predictable way to start any collection of poetry, Tyler’s carefully measured lines serve the collection as a strong introduction:

They came on suddenly, storms did,
when I was eight. All morning I swung
upside down from a rope, arcing over
the lake. Trees strung from clouds. Hair raking
water, just beyond the snapping turtle’s bite.

Although we don’t know it quite yet, these opening lines show us what we will expect in from her collection: characters living in darkness within reach of danger. We see a landscape that seems ready to swallow a child whole, a dark world which will make its appearance again and again, along with characters eerily reminiscent of those found in the works of Flannery O’Connor.

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August 17, 2008

Review by Claire Hersom

TEETH
by Aracelis Girmay

Curbstone Press
321 Jackson Street
Williamantic, CT 06226
ISBN: 978-1-931896-36-8
109pp., $13.00
www.curbstone.org

Aracelis Girmay begins her book with a quote by Elizabeth Alexander, “Many things are true at once,” and this is certainly what the reader will experience within these pages. While it sounds innocuous enough, make no mistake–-many parts of this book are difficult to read. Girmay tells a hard truth of act and place, voice and soul. Her work will take you into the heart of gross inhumanities, into the horrors of a world with acts so atrocious both physically and spiritually that the soul must fly away instead of endure, souls like those at Darfur. Just as profoundly, Girmay has the ability and the generosity to combine the other side of that same truth–“Many things are true at once”–in a simple fact of physics: for everything there is an equal and opposite force. In this case, she writes the truth of human courage, resilience, hope and transcendence.

The themes of despair and hope are mirrored throughout the book, dividing it into sections that address three core themes: global family, intimate family, and global love. Section by section, she separates the themes once again, into atrocity, loss and suffering, transcendence of the human spirit, and finally love and celebration. In Section V, …monologue of the heart pumping blood, she is wildly inspirational and uplifting. Here she wraps the reader closer and closer into universal truth: In as much as we are all different, we are also completely the same.

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