On the poems that are as witty and
page-turning as they are biting and potent.
I’ve written in this space on a
couple different occasions about my friend and colleague Ian Williams: this
early post on his challenging and inspiring work teaching poetry to prison
inmates; and this
brief post highlighting a particularly striking poem from his first published
collection, You Know Who You
Are (2010). Over the last few years, Ian’s writing and career have
taken giant steps into our collective literary and cultural conversations: his
first book of short stories, Not Anyone’s Anything
(2011), won Canada’s prestigious Danuta Gleed Award; and his most recent
poetry collection, Personals (2012), has
been shortlisted for numerous awards, including one of Canada’s most prominent
literary prizes, the Griffin
Poetry Prize.
Any one of Ian’s books would make
for fine accompaniment in your summertime travels, but I’m going to focus here
on that newest and most accomplished work, Personals.
My guess is that a lot of you would never consider a book of poems to be beach
reading, and I can’t say that I blame you—much of the time, poetry is dense and
demanding, something we read multiple times with a pen (not a drink) in hand
and a frown (not the sun) on our face. I don’t want to speak for him, but it
seems to me that one of Ian’s central ongoing goals is to push back on such
images of poetry, to create instead poems that are witty and playful and
engaging, works that do not lose any of the depth or complexity we associate
with the genre but that at the same time don’t feel like homework to read.
He’s certainly done so in Personals, which is as fun to read as
any poetry I’ve encountered since I first discovered e e cummings.
But let me be clear—the voices, identities, and relationships Ian captures in Personals are emotionally and
psychologically resonant and evocative, hitting us close to home and making us
examine our own lives through the lens of these. Take the poem “Rings,” which Ian read as part of the
Griffin Prize ceremony: in a series of one-line vignettes, Ian gradually
captures numerous permutations on the things that keep us or drive us apart,
the problems that plague our relationships and our perspectives, the excuses we
make and the stories we tell. The poem made me laugh, made me cringe, and made
me stop and think, all within a few stanzas—and it and its peers would make
your beachgoing a lot more poetic this summer.
Next beach read tomorrow,
Ben
PS. What would you recommend for a
good beach read? What are you hoping to get to by the pool this summer?
Okay, last one and then I piss off forever, I promise!
ReplyDeleteHave you ever wanted to read a series of essays at the beach which answered the all important questions of porn industry award ceremonies and what the frack is up with John Updike anyways? Do you want to be that person on the beach reading an amazingly funny set of essays that also make you want to jump into the ocean and drown yourself? You're in luck! David Foster Wallace's Consider the Lobster is waiting for you!
Essays run from the safe and witty diatribe on the evolution of vernacular language (ala Noam Chomsky but slightly less... pedantic) to a heavily, hilariously, footnoted essay on the porn industry (it gets really depressing and gross). I won't say anymore about the other essays, but trust me, you will not eat any lobster rolls this summer.
Enjoying both your recommendations and your comments, AnneMarie!
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