13 November 2015

Hoopla and LitCrawling and Poetry Conferencing

I am going to have a crazy weekend of literariness this weekend, with the New Zealand Poetry Conference on Friday night, Saturday day and Sunday morning, and LitCrawl on Saturday night. Phew!

At LitCrawl I'm going to be reading with the other five Hoopla poets (ie we've had our poetry collections published as part of Mākaro Press's Hoopla poetry series): Michael Harlow, Stefanie Lash, Jennifer Compton, Bryan Walpert and Carolyn McCurdie. We're going to try to weave our readings together, have our poems talk to each other, rather than just be six individual poets. We're on at 8.30 at the Concerned Citizen's Collective on 17 Tory Street. Would be lovely to see you there - though there are soooo many amazing things on all at the same time that I have no idea how I am going to choose. I wish I could split myself into about three people... Anyway, check out the programme here: http://litcrawl.co.nz/.

And tomorrow afternoon at 3.15 at the New Zealand Poetry Conference at the National Library I'm going to be part of a panel about publishing with Mary McCallum (Mākaro Press) and Doc Drumheller (editor of Catalyst journal). We're going to talk about what we do and how we work with poets, and will answer questions. I think it's not too late to register to come to the conference, and I understand it's also possible to go to individual sessions and just particular days. More info here: http://www.poetrysociety.org.nz/PoetryConference2015.

04 November 2015

Reading Susan Sontag

Susan Sontag is one of those people I kept on hearing about, who other people mentioned, who turned up in other people's stories, but I didn't really know who she was. She turned up as the dead partner of Annie Liebovitz in a documentary about the photographer, and there was that documentary about her in the film festival which I failed to see and now can't get hold of. She gets mentioned in other people's books, she wrote fiction, she wrote criticism, she directed plays, she did all kinds of stuff of which I am only vaguely aware.

But, she'd turned up often enough that I thought it was time to find out for myself, and so have been reading some of her essays. Starting with the collection, Against Interpretation, from 1967 (or at least the edition I have is from then - it's the English edition though, so the US edition might have been earlier).

I must have already been aware that Sontag was quite opinionated, and I am sometimes a bit nervous of definite, opinionated people (being myself, on one hand, a bit postmodern, and on the other a bit indecisive) so I was quite delighted to read this in the introduction:
Before I wrote the essays, I did not believe many of the ideas espoused in them; when I wrote them, I believed what I wrote; subsequently, I have come to disbelieve some of these same ideas again--but from a new perspective, one that incorporates and is nourished by what is true in the argument of the essays.

Reading some of these essays, I have been struck by how chaotic some of the organisation of them seems to me, how little proof she sometimes gives, and how she makes enormous, sweeping statements. And also how absolutely marvellous those enormous sweeping statements are, and how I have copied many of them down into my journal, and then read them out to Sean later. (In her defence, I should also note that I've been reading some of her more recent pieces in Where the Stress Falls, a much later collection of her writings, and I thought the writing was much tighter, less chaotic - but perhaps also less free-wheelingly mind-blowing?)

So, basically, here are some of my favs, so I can find them here again when I'm looking for them.

From 'On Style'

Art is not only about something, it is something. A work of art is a thing in the world, not just a text or commentary on the world.
[Works of art] present information and evaluations. But their distinctive feature is that they give rise not to conceptual knowledge (which is the distinctive feature of discursive or scientific knowledge - eg philosophy [etc...]) but to something like an excitation, a phenomenon of commitment, judgement in a state of thralldom or captivation. Which is to say that the knowledge we gain through art is an experience of the form or style of knowing something, rather than a knowledge of something (like a fact or a moral judgement) in itself.
She quotes Nietzsche, from The Birth of Tragedy: 'Art is not an imitation of nature but a metaphysical supplement, raised up beside it in order to overcome it.'
Usually critics who want to praise a work of art feel compelled to demonstrate that each part is justified, that it could not be other than it is. And every artist, when it comes to his [or her] own work, remembering the role of chance, fatigue, external distractions, knows what the critic says to be a lie, knows that it could well have been otherwise. The sense of inevitability that a great work of art projects is not made up of the inevitability or necessity of its parts, but of the whole.
In the greatest art, one is always aware of the things that cannot be said ... of the contradiction between expression and the presence of the inexpressible - stylistic devices are also techniques of avoidance. The most potent elements in a work of art are, often, its silences.

Notes on 'Camp'

I enjoyed the form of this essay as well as the content. It's written in numbered paragraphs, which is something that I have been using in a (very) long prose poem I'm working on at the moment (and have been, on-and-off for the last year), and which adds a delightful and sometimes staccato energy to it. It has also suggested to me that my taste is often quite camp.

55. Camp taste is, above all, a mode of enjoyment, of appreciation--not judgement. Camp is generous. It wants to enjoy. it only seems like malice, cynicism. (Or, if it is cynicism, its not a ruthless but a sweet cynicism.) Camp doesn't propose that it is in bad taste to be serious; it doesn't sneer at someone who succeeds in being seriously dramatic. What it does is to find the success in certain passionate failures.


23 September 2015

Memorial by Alice Oswald

One of the poetry books recommended to me was Memorial by Alice Oswald, and it just so happened that it was on the Poetry Day display in the library the next time I went in, so that was handy. I read it a couple of weeks ago, and I've just reread it again, and I have to say that I love it.

Basically, it is a loose translation of sections of Homer's The Illiad, which is set during the Trojan war. The poet calls it 'an excavation of the Illiad', and also 'a translation of the Illiad's atmosphere'. She strips out most of the story, and focuses on the deaths of each character. You get a little snippet of their lives, where known, and how they died. And in between there are sections of extended similes, using imagery from nature to evoke death. 

For example:
AXYLUS son of Teuthras
Lived all his live in the lovely harbour of Arisbe
Looking down at the Hellespont
Everyone knew that plump man
Sitting on the step with his door wide open
He who so loved his friends
Died side by side with CALESIUS
In a daze of loneliness
Their conversation unfinished

Like the hawk of the hills the perfect killer
Easily outflies the clattering dove
She dips away but he follows he ripples
He hangs his black hooks over her
And snares her with a thin cry
In praise of her softness

It is one of those reasonably rare collections of poetry that seem to reinvent poetry - even while it is so very rooted in tradition. I didn't just like it, it got me excited. And I felt very quickly that I should trust it - there were a few things, like the beginning which is just a list of names, and the repetition of the simile sections that at first I wasn't sure I liked, but the writing was so good that I felt I could just go with it, and then it felt right.

This book-length poem works for me both intellectually - it's clever, interesting, beautiful language, and also emotionally - it's really sad! Each person who died was a person. They had a life, but now they don't anymore. They were loved, they are grieved for. I don't know if she meant it to have an anti-war message, but how could it not - as soon and you see people as people, their deaths become a tragedy, not just a statistic.

It's also quite gruesome: 'And someone's face was pierced like a piece of fruit'; 'Died in a puddle of his own guts'; 'You can see the hole in the helmet just under the ridge/Where the point of the blade passed through/And stuck in his forehead/Letting the darkness leak down over his eyes'.

It wasn't until my second reading, oddly, that I really noticed the lack of punctuation. There isn't any - not at all. The line breaks generally act as pauses, but it has a breathlessness about it, and also in some lines, where there would normally a comma or full stop, it leads to some quite interesting and occasionally ambiguous run-ons. For example: 'Calm down their horses lift them/Out of the fight as light as ash'; or, even better: 'He collapsed instantly an unspeakable sorrow to his parents'

I'm getting interested in translation at the moment, despite being basically monolingual, because I'm going to start the Seraph Press Translation Series, beginning with three chapbooks of poetry. Poet Vana Manasiadis is going to be my series co-editor. Anyway, so I was very interested in how Oswald talks about her approach to translation in the introduction:
My 'biographies' are paraphrases of the Greek, my similes are translations. However, my approach to translation is fairly irreverent. I work closely with the Greek, but instead of carrying the words over to English, I use them as opening through which to see what Homer was looking at. I write through the Greek, not from it - aiming for translucence rather than translation.
Another thing I love that she said in the introduction is:
There are accounts of Greek lament in both the Iliad and the Odyssey. When a corpse was layed out, a professional poet (someone like Homer) led the mourning and was anti-phonally answered by women offering personal accounts of the deceased. I like to think that the stories of individual soldiers recorded in the Illiad might be recollections of these laments, woven into the narrative by poets who regularly performed both high epic and choral lyric poetry.
 Some links to relevant stuff on the internet:

Alice Oswald on the Poetry Archive, which includes an audio recording of her reading part of Memorial.

Youtube clip of Alice Oswald reading in Boston (embedded below). She begins by 'reading' from other work (actually she's reciting - clearly she's memorised everything! How stressful!) and at around 22 minutes she starts talking about Memorial.

Guardian review of Memorial.

Long interview with Alice Oswald in the White Review.

Afterword to Alice Oswald's Memorial by Eavan Boland.

01 September 2015

Well hello again: poetry in, poetry out

It's been an awfully long time since I've blogged. When I started this blog, I was keen to write about all sorts of things that entered my head. And then I wasn't. But suddenly, as of yesterday, I suddenly felt like putting some stuff up here again. Mainly for me. I'm not sure if anyone is reading this anymore - the heyday of blogging seems to be over - but that's ok.

What I want to blog about is the poetry that I'm reading, and to post links to things I like so I can find them again more easily. And maybe someone else will find them interesting too.

At the moment, I'm in a really fortunate place. Until the end of the year (and hopefully a bit longer) my main occupation is to be a poet. (Thanks Creative NZ!) I'm working on what will, all going well, be my next book. I'm calling it 'How to Live', because that's what it will be about, which is kind of about everything. What I've mainly been doing is reading and thinking, and scribbling a lot in my journal. I've been reading a lot about philosophy and philosophers, about which I'm suddenly and rather belatedly obsessed. I've also been reading some more creative non-fiction books, and some critical essays about poetry. And I've been making a bunch of connections, which is fun, and I hope might make their way into the poems somehow, though as yet I'm not quite sure how. I'm challenging myself with these poems. I'm trying to stretch myself. Sometimes that's a bit scary, which is kind of silly, because what is the danger?

Anyway, I have been feeling in the last week or so that I need to also be reading more poetry. Poetry that will inspire and excite me, and show me possibilities. So I asked some people at lunch the other day (on Poetry Day!) to recommend to me some books by overseas poets (contemporary) that they thought I might like and should read, who isn't Anne Carson (who is probably my poetic hero, but I have her books already. I am rereading them though, and will probably write about her work more in the future).

It's possible that this list might be interesting to other people, so I thought I'd post it here. Also, if you have any more suggestions, feel free to add them.

Helen’s international contemporary poetry reading list

Caroline Bird. Books: Watering Can (2009), Trouble Came to the Turnip (2006), Looking Through Letterboxes (2002), The Hat-Stand Union (2013).

Jill Alexander Essbaum, The Devastation. Also Harlot or Necropolis?

Alfred Starr Hamilton, A Dark Dreambox of Another Kind.

Robert Hass, Praise.

Selima Hill. Books include Bunny (2001), Trembling hearts in the bodies of dogs: new & selected poems (1994), Gloria: selected poems (2008), The accumulation of small acts of kindness (1989), The Sparkling Jewel of Naturism (2014), People Who Like Meatballs (2012), Fruitcake (2009), Violet (1997), The Hat (2008), Jutland (2015).

Ailish Hopper, Dark-sky Society.

Marie Howe. Books: The Kingdom of Ordinary Time (2008), What the Living Do (1998), The Good Thief (1988)

Luke Kennard. Books include: The Harbour Beyond the Movie (2007), The Migraine Hotel (2009), A Lost Expression (2014), The Solex Brothers (Redux) and Other Prose Poems (2005).

Ben Lerner, Angle of Yaw (also The Lichtenberg Figures).

Patricia Lockwood, Balloon Pop Outlaw Black.

Alice Oswald, In Memoriam (also Dart and Weeds and Wild Flowers).

Clare Pollard (Books: Ovid’s Heroines (2013), Changeling (2011), Look, Clare! Look! (2005), Bedtime (2002), The Heavy-petting Zoo (1998).

Mary Ruefle (I have read Selected Poems, but would like to read some more recent work, including Trances of the Blast and The Most of It).

Richard Siken, Crush.

Richard Siken, The War of the Foxes.

A.E. Stallings. Books include: Hapax (2005), Olives (2012).

Matthew Zapruder. Books include: Sun Bear (2014), Come On All You Ghosts (2010), American Linden (2002), The Pajamaist (2006).

10 July 2015

Book launch invitation

I'm just about to publish another Seraph Press book - we're launching Johanna Aitchison's Miss Dust, her third poetry collection, in Palmerston North next Friday. This is a super-cool book, and I'm delighted to be publishing it.

If you can make it to the launch, that'd be lovely. It's at the Palmerston North Public Library, on Friday 17 July at 6.30 pm.

There's more about the book and the author over here, and I've even figured out this online selling thing, finally, and added buttons so you can buy the book online: http://www.seraphpress.co.nz/miss-dust.html.
And, in fact, I have had such a productive day (a precious day of non-paid work), that I've even started a Seraph Press mailing list, to which I will send out very occasional newsletters about what Seraph Press is up to. Wanna join? Click the pic below...

04 June 2015

Poetry at Pegasus

Come join us at Pegasus Books on Thursday June 11th, 6pm, for an evening of poetry featuring John Dennison, Anna Jackson, Helen Rickerby, Rhydian Thomas and Pegasus's own Lee Posna. Biscuits and tea after the reading!