Poem-A-Day #314 : The Voices Of The Dead Only Say The Things We Make Them Say

The Voices Of The Dead Only Say The Things We Make Them Say

A book flips open
a random page
painted over and over
with the faces of your dead

An alphabet of ghosts
the words of the novel
replaced with
their eyes

Just last night
the book had been
about a woman
solving a murder
in some small
Irish town

Who signifies 'A'
and who got the 'X'
is perhaps a sort of
shade thrown wildly
in several directions

Is this psychology
a clever trick
of the dire mind

You sit in the chair
and by oranging light
you attempt to see
a thing in these lines

Graves are closed mouths
books in theory are
the vessels of dead who
cannot help but speak

Yet
these faces only want
to recount how
this woman discovered
whodunnit

They only stand for letters
they sentence plot
metaphor fails them
but they have emotional climax
and denounment for you

An ending that in some sense
could satisfy all that came before

What I'm Reading : December 1st 2016

Gather Journal is an amazing food/drink journal that comes out twice a year. I had the good fortune of having my poetry featured in an early issue. The recepies are luxe, the photographs are insanely beautiful. Each issue is a mood. The current one is on the seven deadly sins. There's a cocktail in it that involves cotton candy.


I started Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie yesterday. It is part one in her Imerial Radch series. I'm not very far in but the book is fascinating, the main character is several thousand years old and has had several thousand bodies, including space ships. We join them as they have been reduced to one lone human body. Unique in the use of a non-gendered point of view of the world.


Benito Pérez Galdós is widely considered one of the best Spanish novelists. Many consider him second only to Miguel de Cervantes. I will be honest, I started Tristana weeks ago. It's only 170 pages but I am finding it HARD to get through. It's the tale of Tristana, a woman (a girl honestly) who is taken in by an aging (he's nearly 90) Don Juan type. He refuses to marry her, she is deflowered, and then falls in love with a painter. It's VERY Victorian, but maybe a little more honest about the creepiness of the era. I am just not being taken in by this story though. It is perhaps an issue of time. I am in the midst of teaching Existentialism and the sexual problems of people in big houses is maybe...counter that. The 1970 movie version was directed by Luis Buñuel.

Foundational

Edmund Dulac

I said something deep today while talking on the phone with JAA. The discussion was about ourselves as writers. A notoriously douchey conversation topic, but we are writers so we talk about that thing a bunch.

We had stumbled into a discussion of looking backwards at our old work. Seeing what it was about. Learning from it. Personal archeology. JAA writes in journals all the time. Every few months he takes a journal and moves the work onto a computer and begins to edit. I tend to not write things down. It means I forget a bunch, but the written word is like concrete to me and I don't like to set things too early.

I mentioned that I do have a pretty rigorous computer filing system. It's by year and alphabetical. I even put draft numbers in there.

I mentioned that I was sifting through poems from 2000 recently. That it felt like a gift to be able to go back to that time and rethink the work. Edit it. And here's where I got all deepish. I said:

As writers, we get to rewrite our pasts. Erase it. Rework it until it's perfect.

And thinking on that, I realize that I meant it. But not in a erasing the past to pretend it didn't happen way. In a way similar to a cover-up tattoo. You will always remember that there was something else there, Always. And maybe only you can see it. But it exists. Foundational. Underneath.

I've been thinking a lot about foundation lately. Being back in NM has led me down paths I walked 12 years ago. My early 20s were spent writing a lot and working only on weekends. It was great in the way only your college years can be.

My foundation as a writer is in that space. That work. Re-reading it, I am struck by how of that space I was. Writing angry anti-war poems. Aping Ginsberg's voice. Trying to write a poem about body image form a woman's perspective. A few slightly questionable sex poems that border on being rapey. It's all very young man of me. Very Bush V. Gore of me.

At the same time I've been reading a few actual foundational texts for my Pub Weekly review gig. I read a new translation of One Thousand and One Nights by Hanan-al-Shaykh. And then this week I did the new Wole Soyinka translation of Forest of a Thousand Daemons by D. O. Fagunwa. The Fagunwa book is only from 1939 but is deeply foundational to modern African lit. 1001 Nights is obviously foundational to most lit.

They relate to each other in tone, in topics, and in structure. They both are about someone telling stories. They both rely heavily on morality and on a readers pre-known knowledge of certain tropes. They 'teach'. And they both have deep, problematic sex politics.

Foundational literature - Aesop. Plato. 1001 Nights. Forest of a Thousand Daemons - is a thing we often don't think about. That little hidden thought in the back of our head. It only rears up when we actually reopen the file saved away somewhere. When we stare into it long enough to see ourselves in there.

The ugly and the beautiful.

THIS! 10/12/12

THIS! on October 12, 2012

Historical Bromance

FACT!
On this day in 1960 Nikita Khrushchev pounded his shoe on a desk at a UN General Assembly meeting to protest the Philippine assertion of Soviet Union colonial policy in Eastern Europe.


1) 55 Cancri e

'55 Cancri e' is a massive 8x heavier than the earth while only twice the size. Its close orbit means a year is only 18 hours. The surface temperature reaches 3,900 degrees Fahrenheit. The surface is covered in graphite and diamonds.

It is also only 40 light years away.


2) Wendy's

They unveiled a new logo. It's terrible.

Comparison via Brand New

The new Wendy icon is fine. I like the update. I like that she is flesh colored instead of ghost-white. I like the hair and the new circle. The script choice is...odd. It's too rounded, too silly. It looses all appeal. Why not use the old logo with the new Wendy? Sad.


3) Mo Yan

Mo Yan was awarded the Nobel in Literature. The Chinese author's pen name means 'Don't Speak'. He is best known for Red Sorghum and the film version. His latest novel Life And Death Are Wearing Me Out was written in 42 days with traditional brush and ink.

Buy one of his books.


4) LEGO

This gigantic Batcave model exists in the world. It weighs 100 pounds and took over 800 hours. Look at the builder's Flickr stream here.

Guest Post : Uncovering Lolita

- By Hayley Heaton

Lolita, since I read it in my very early twenties, has been one of my absolute favorite books. The language is so masterfully and exquisitely manipulative! I read it at least once a year, sometimes more than once. I've found that the more I experience this story, my courtship with it changes. I don't think that this is an uncommon phenomenon. It's one of those books that makes you heartbroken no matter which character you're siding with--Lo, Charlotte, or Humself.

The first copy I purchased, now incredibly worn and wrinkled, features an ankle in a folded sock slid inside a saddle shoe. It’s an evocative image to be sure, but certainly not the most successful cover. In my opinion, the ankle-sock-shoe-skirt image is a little too easy and it simplifies the book’s contents. This book broods and swings moods. It breaks hearts and commits murder. It’s not just a story about a little girl and a pedophile; it’s a tragic and broken love story and the image of an ankle sock somehow just doesn’t do it justice. This is something I find common when it comes to covering it. As readers we should remember that Lolita is a dangerous book and the cover should reflect love, danger, heartbreak, sex and innocence. It’s a tall order.

Perhaps it’s easy to talk about my first cover selection, because I believe it’s the most iconic. But icons are icons for a reason. This image of Lolita with her heart-shaped sunglasses first appeared as a movie poster for the Stanley Kubrick version of the film that was made in 1962. It has since been the cover of the book for multiple editions in several languages.

Here we see Lo peering over a pair of red, heart-shaped sunglasses. The look in her eyes suggests that she is just about to cross the cusp of innocence into something entirely more dangerous. She is definitely giving off a curious vibe. And let us not forget that lovely lollipop. Lo’s lips are absorbing both its color and flavor. She’s not chewing on it like a greedy child; she’s tasting and teasing. Collectively, this image works because it is showing rather than telling readers what to think. And what does it show us? Lolita, suspended in her world, yet peering curiously into Hum’s.

If there were ever two things that should be united it’s the work of Balthus and the text of Lolita; they’re a perfect match. Nabokov was a genius and Balthus was some painter!

The image that chosen for the 1995, Penguin edition of the book was a work by Balthus titled Girl and Cat. It was painted in 1937 before the book existed, but seems to fit the text perfectly. It’s as if the two were just waiting to hold hands with each other. Although, many of his paintings show young girls in erotic contexts (please see The Guitar Lesson…whoa), Balthus often claimed that his paintings were not erotic, but rather exhibited the uncomfortable fact of children’s sexuality.

Exhibit A!

Here we see a girl who, in the context of the book cover, we can safely assume is Lolita. This is a different Lolita than the one with candy and glasses, though (remember the mood swings I mentioned earlier?). This Lolita looks disheveled; one of her sleeves is pushed up, as well as her skirt. Her body language does not match the look on her face. Her legs are splayed open and inviting, but her face is not. She looks sad, a little weary, and if she’s preparing herself for what’s to come; enter Humbert. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, look at this tangle…indeed.

Last, but not least…In 2009, John Bertram's Venus Febriculosa held a contest to redesign the cover of Lolita. The idea behind the contest was to see what artists and designers would come up with when they were free of editors’ and publishers’ constraints. Many of the newly designed covers use text as image and many of them play with some of the iconic images we’ve seen previously, like the heart-shaped glasses and the lollipops. A lot of them feature butterflies—Nabokov was a devoted lepidopterist. Some of the covers hit the mark precisely and others, well, they look all curlicued and sappy.

In my opinion, the most successful of these redesigned covers is that of Egor Krasnoperov. It really is quite marvelous. It combines simple lines and curves to create several different images. Dead center we see the shape of a lollipop, which also resembles a target. Veering out from this red, circular image are three strategic lines. The top two form a “V” shape, the last stems down right in the center making this image resemble a young girl’s genitalia placed between thighs. This image is simple, beautiful, and completely dangerous. It makes us look longer. It makes us uncomfortable. It makes us ask questions. All of these things make Kroasnoperov’s cover wildly successful, and dare I say it, my most favorite to date.

- Hayley Heaton is an avid flaneur, as well as a poet and playwright. She lives in the middle of nowhere and loves to eat grilled cheese sandwiches.

King

What does the name Stephen King make you think of?

I bet it's something scary. For me it's the face of Pennywise. When I talked about John Grisham on Monday I mentioned how some writers are put into boxes. Grisham is in the lawyer box. King seems to have been placed firmly in the horror box.

Horror Box

This is an unfair description. Since the early 90s King has written mostly psychological books with fantasy or horror elements. His last straight horror novel was probably Needful Things in 1991. In general he is looked at as a 'commercial' author. A non-literary author. He certainly sells a ton of books. He has sold more than 350 million copies of his 60+ books. Which makes the claim of 'commercial' ring very true.

It is a label that is meant to diminish his abilities as a writer. And many consider him to be not very good. Harold Bloom famously decried his National Book Award Lifetime Achievement by saying, "The decision...is extraordinary, another low in the shocking process of dumbing down our cultural life." The full article is amazing for it's hatred. He goes on to say that King is terrible on a word-by-word basis.

Bloom's screed led Orson Scott Card to respond with:

"Let me assure you that King's work most definitely is literature, because it was written to be published and is read with admiration. What Snyder really means is that it is not the literature preferred by the academic-literary elite."

I agree with Card. King has consistently proven to be a Big Name author. He sells a lot of books, but is clearly outside the box of literary fiction. Personally, I find these distinctions to be silly. My main concern is always - Do I enjoy reading it? And I always enjoy King's work.

He continues to push the walls of the commercial box outwards. He experiments with the form and process of getting the book to his readers frequently. In 2000 King was the first Big Name author to make a book available exclusively on the internet. His novella Riding The Bullet was sold for $2.50. He also published a serialized novel The Plant on his website the same year. In a nod to pre-20th century publishing, he published The Green Mile in 6 parts in the summer of 1996. In 1999 he published Blood & Smoke as an audio book.

Many would say that these things are gimmicks, and they are, but these are the types of things that make King interesting. He wants to deliver a good story and also to package that story in an engaging way. He is the type of author that keeps people interested.

If anything I'd compare him to Philip K. Dick. They both use genre to reveal character. The fantasy/horror elements are there to show the truths of the people involved. To say something broader about the worlds they live in. Both are also often underestimated as writers.

One final note: King's books are all interconnected. He has spent a huge portion of his career tying his novels into his Dark Tower series. The threads connecting the books are legion.

If that idea blows your mind a little, it should. He's worth another look.

Good Country People

Good Country People 2/28

Slide the leather off - the pink
round knee - stump - pound
of flesh in the hayloft

The folds - loose - without bone
finger on under sensitive skin
It is all rubber - all shredding

Dust Jacket : The Orphan Master's Son

The Orphan Master's Son (2012)
Design by : Lynn Buckley

Finding information on the designers who create book covers is not easy. Most book listings on sites like Amazon don't list the designer. Typing names into Google only works if the artist has a website or is very well known. Usually you find a link to another Amazon page.

In the case of Lynn Buckley I found nothing on who she is. What I did find was a list of the books she has designed:

Gilead, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet, The Corrections, The River Wife, Star Dust, The Time of Our Singing, Big Machine

What can be seen from these covers is Buckley's clear style. Bright and bold. She uses a bold text-based focal point and brings in an image that supports it. She also tends to have the text interact with the image in some way. And she is clearly in demand; most of these books are best-sellers.

What caught my eye with The Orphan Master's Son was the bold text that fades in and out of the rich orange image of a tiger face. The animal seems to be eating the title while also being consumed by it. In person, the text has a slightly different texture and is glossy. It draws the eye and is memorable.

In publishing there has been a trend towards text-based covers. Jonathan Safran Foer, Toni Morrison, and Zadie Smith books come to mind immediately. Good text design can be just as beautiful and as image-based design. One just needs to look at illuminated texts to see this.

It also calls to mind the work of Glenn Ligon. Specifically his work Mirror from 2002 that recently appeared in the controversial show hide/seek at the Brooklyn Museum. That work contains a long quote of James Baldwin's:

What I like about Buckley's work is that it combines the current trend of text heavy design with a bold sense of image. This is more up my alley, personally. There are a few other recent covers that pop to mind when I think of this blend of text and image:

No One Is Here Except All of Us is my favorite cover so far in 2012. The cover of Hope  is evocative and makes you want to know the story inside.


Sometimes, Buckley's text takes a back seat (Star Dust, The Time of Our Singing) other times it is the center pull (The Orphan Master's Son, Big Machine). There is a great balance and the covers catch your eye. While I don't particularly think The Thousand Autumns is a beautiful cover, it certainly is memorable and one of the few from last year that I looked at each time I saw it in the store.

I wish that artists like Lynn Buckley, even if they are 'just' designers, got a little more attention. For no other reason that I could see/hear what they have to say about working on these covers and how the process unfolds.

Dust Jacket is a sometime article about the design and artwork of book covers. The idea is to shine a spotlight on the work of the designer separated from the work of the author. It is literally judging a book by its cover.

The Open Boat

The Open Boat (Crane and Norton) 2/27

None knew the color of the sky

A Soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers

Their eyes glanced level, were fastened upon the waves

There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears

These waves were the hue of slate, the tops were foaming white, all knew the colors of the sea

But a comrade stood beside him, and he took that comrade's hand

The horizon narrowed and widened, dipped and rose, at all times its edge was jagged with waves that thrust up in points like rocks

And he said, 'I nevermore shall see my own, my native land'

Sonny's Blues

Sonny's Blues 2/26

dark club
swirling smoke
drinking whiskey and milk

here now
eyes closed
to the rolling heads

this is ecstasy
nothing melts
so much as bounces off

Hills Like White Elephants

Hills Like White Elephants 2/24

The track divides the land
into green and brown planes

Hand across abdomen
the soreness in the joints a burn
a field of rushes charcoaling

Tall grass popping
along the silver of the rails

Nicklehead spinning on edge
the face the un-face
stalls and lands opening

Every small flower
broken anise and china

A Perfect Day For Bananafish

A Perfect Day For Bananafish 2/23

Foot through sand
A pressed hand into dried peas

The ocean void
more glass than sea

Here is the gun sir, here is the gun sir, here
is the gun.

The Yellow Wallpaper

The Yellow Wallpaper 2/22

The wall is a purple field
a silver scratch
pulls itself into a coil

Filigree

All tone and shine
breaking the line of your eye
taunting you

To wrap your wrists in it

Ideological

Ideological 3/10

it must (mean) it (must) it mean

Tilt

Tilt 2/4

When I was young I stood on rocky flats tilting windmills of poetry
Those Ginsbergs and Pounds that dot the countryside
Now I ride mules and kick rocks into the words I’ve wrought before
These are melting paintings are Icarus wings are fires in warehouses
I want my own damn windmill
I will deforest libraries before the night is through

Biased

Biased 1/23

The 35th parallel is a labyrinth of histories

Conquests a melting framework feathers and horn

Storytellers dancing in dusts in circles around pueblos

Building cities and collapsing them being a birth a death

Swash

Swash 1/22

Does the ocean sound like static or does static sound like the ocean

The table is feet from the edge
            where dirt packs and grass falls
            abyss –

The sound of water is the sound of airplanes over Brooklyn

It is one A.M. and the television is color-bars and national anthems

Staring into the void is Land’s End

The sound of dashing on rocks
            circling down and frothing
            pulling you in –

Perigraphic 2.0

Perigraphic 2 2/21

You are throwing diamonds like marbles

Exaggerated hand movements – a showgirl posing next to a washer/dryer
Is there a ‘G’ Vana?

Wind is tossing grass into your mouth and it tastes like grass

Read-write

Read-write 1/10

I wanted to make a metaphor about the mind being a computer file – about the way you can read-write –

I wanted to talk about the pulling of information the acquisition of knowledge – See there’s this resemblance computers and humanity – locked unlocked – erased completely form the records –

There is history – rise and fall like tides like balloons

I wanted to talk about the universe – it’s read-write – the stars circle in their spheres they explode – open like a vent pull everything in start again –

Table Glass

Table Glass 1/9

Doctor Dee stares into his onyx mirror

Wavering silhouette and candle-light

In there is a black world that Dee thinks he understands
He presses his hands and face into the cold surface
Feels the warmth rubbing off from him

There is a room in there with a man looking back
There is a darkness on both sides of the divide

Doctor Dee snuffs the candles and divides a stack of books

The room empties