{"title":"The Living Sea of Waking Dreams by Richard Flanagan (review)","authors":"Derek Hinckley","doi":"10.1353/apo.2022.a906060","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"2022 ❖ 161 stanza, as one long sentence, readers may find that meaning eludes them because of the wordy expression. In “Concerning Shearers Playing for the Bride” from the Localities section, the first page of the poem feels mostly cohesive (except for some fairly random rhyming in the fifth stanza). The poem concerns a painting by Arthur Boyd, and this first page does well in bringing it to life for the reader. However, the strength of the opening fades in the second and third page of the poem, when both the tone and the subject shift. We move from lovely lines like “the bride behind and the costly veil / while the lantern flutters, yaws and bends” to “And the cards say / and the mat says / ‘Play!’ Play / craftily for the essences’ / sweet emergence / from cocoon of circumstance.” This drastic shift in both tone and content not only disconcerts readers but also strips polish from the finished poem. He moves from capturing the essence of the painting to a less measured, more stream-of-consciousness rant reminiscent of a paler version of Allen Ginsberg. This is disappointing because when Harris pays attention to language, he has a real ability to draw a reader in and make a statement with his work. Harris is at his strongest in his most descriptive poems, when he uses clear, carefully chosen language. For example, in “Cane Country,” appearing in The Abandoned, he writes, “Work was a god whose feet / were sugar and fire.” In moments like this, Harris shows us his skill at molding language to his purposes. The sections have punch and life and lack the heaviness of his more verbose poems. He lights up the reader’s imagination. There are enough moments of spark in Harris’s work that it would be well worth a reader’s time to sit down with a full collection in which the poet had the space to tell a story, to create a narrative arc. Unfortunately, the selection here, unbalanced as it is in representing his full collections, does not make for a good introduction to Robert Harris’s poetic accomplishments.","PeriodicalId":41595,"journal":{"name":"Antipodes-A Global Journal of Australian/New Zealand Literature","volume":"1 1","pages":"161 - 163"},"PeriodicalIF":0.1000,"publicationDate":"2023-09-08","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Antipodes-A Global Journal of Australian/New Zealand Literature","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/apo.2022.a906060","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"0","JCRName":"LITERATURE, AFRICAN, AUSTRALIAN, CANADIAN","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
2022 ❖ 161 stanza, as one long sentence, readers may find that meaning eludes them because of the wordy expression. In “Concerning Shearers Playing for the Bride” from the Localities section, the first page of the poem feels mostly cohesive (except for some fairly random rhyming in the fifth stanza). The poem concerns a painting by Arthur Boyd, and this first page does well in bringing it to life for the reader. However, the strength of the opening fades in the second and third page of the poem, when both the tone and the subject shift. We move from lovely lines like “the bride behind and the costly veil / while the lantern flutters, yaws and bends” to “And the cards say / and the mat says / ‘Play!’ Play / craftily for the essences’ / sweet emergence / from cocoon of circumstance.” This drastic shift in both tone and content not only disconcerts readers but also strips polish from the finished poem. He moves from capturing the essence of the painting to a less measured, more stream-of-consciousness rant reminiscent of a paler version of Allen Ginsberg. This is disappointing because when Harris pays attention to language, he has a real ability to draw a reader in and make a statement with his work. Harris is at his strongest in his most descriptive poems, when he uses clear, carefully chosen language. For example, in “Cane Country,” appearing in The Abandoned, he writes, “Work was a god whose feet / were sugar and fire.” In moments like this, Harris shows us his skill at molding language to his purposes. The sections have punch and life and lack the heaviness of his more verbose poems. He lights up the reader’s imagination. There are enough moments of spark in Harris’s work that it would be well worth a reader’s time to sit down with a full collection in which the poet had the space to tell a story, to create a narrative arc. Unfortunately, the selection here, unbalanced as it is in representing his full collections, does not make for a good introduction to Robert Harris’s poetic accomplishments.