EILEEN TABIOS Engages
THE UNFOLLOWING by Lyn Hejinian
(Omnidawn Publishing,
Oakland, 2016)
The brain can be trained. I created a database of 1,146 lines for which I claim that any combination
therein—from the smallest combination of a couplet to the longest of a 1,146-line poem—is a legitimate poem. The
possible number of combinations or poems (mathematical permutations) is,
according to my son’s math tutor, a number with 3,011 digits, or a whole lotta
poems. This review is not about me but I share this facet of my subjectivity
since I am the author of this review: I am familiar with connecting seemingly
random data. This is relevant to—a bias in—my reading of Lyn Hejinian’s THE UNFOLLOWING.
I actually wish I had read the poems before Hejinian’s
Preface. For no explanation is required to comprehend the poems as each containing a
logic that, for one, didn’t cause my reading to pause while I mentally
scratched my head as my eyes moved from a line like (and here I open the book
at random)
“If nothing had a cause, cows could
be hatched from robins and balls that fell on one day might float on another”
to an immediately succeeding line like
“Gratefully we watch a silent film”
Or, as another example (from again opening the book at
random), a line like
“How are mountains like rucksacks
or blankets drawn up to a dreamer’s chin”
to an immediately succeeding line like
“We live on a world from which
metamorphoses are drawn”
Now, some combinations are more effective than others—and
I’ve been using two-liners to focus in on the succession of lines. What I
notice is that, often (perhaps not always but many times), the intersection of
realism and abstraction-or-philosophy is more powerful than mere listing. For
example, a line like
“”The girls danced in dead light,
the cadavers lay in live light—but as for those girls, men with mouths like
mare vaginas watched them”
immediately followed by a line like
“Every rough rupture demands
elasticity of the imagination”
might not have been as powerful if the 2nd line
was another itemization like the first.
In her Preface, Hejinian shares that
(Click on all images to enlarge)
A useful (educational) introduction, even as the poems on their own, without Hejinian’s prefatory
revelations, reveal a logic—an assurance that its body of words successfully
created a poem.
In our time compressed by technology (internet) so that we
can have the world in the privacy of our hermit-doms—e.g., “Alexa, what is the
expected weather tomorrow in Abu Dhabi?” Alexa of Amazon.com, after explaining
Abu Dhabi is in the United Arab Emirates, “Look for lots of sun with a high of
97 and a low of 80”—is it still a reach to expect the reader to work to connect
lines that were specifically designed to be ordered illogically?
No doubt the answer depends on the particular reader: for
some, yes; for others (perhaps the younger generation steeped in technology-facilitated
attention-switching?), no. Certainly for
me with that database of 1,146 lines, no.
What I will share, though, is that one reason the poems feel
unforced (logical) in their unfolding is the music. Read this excerpt, for
instance:
The ebbs and flows; the encouraged pauses as well as
declarative and exclamatory tones; the flow of the long lines combined with the
brief—they all provide a pleasing read. Indeed, if the above excerpt is read
out loud, the reader won’t (or, I as reader, didn’t) feel the tension of a line
going too long or slackening or a shorter line feeling interrupted; as well, I
relaxed right into its syncopations.
The music is relevant for Hejinian’s content is everything
else beyond the initial impetus of her project: the death of a young relative
as a result of cancer. She covers how “there has been much to mourn in the
public sphere, too. Indeed, there is ample cause in the world for real
political anguish and justifiable cosmic despair. Whatever checks on
capitalism’s rapacity existed (or perhaps only seemed to exist) even a decade
ago are all but non-existent now. More and more brazenly, capitalism commits
crimes against humanity. And, indeed, it isn’t only, and not even primarily,
humanity that is suffering. These are truly sad times, even for sparrows and
ragweed.”
That’s a huge expanse to put into an 89-page book. Hejinian
succeeds because what fills in the cracks between her lines
is music, and music is one of those elements like air that can shift-shape into
what’s open (the definition of “open” including the receptiveness of a reader).
THE UNFOLLOWING reveals a Master Poet
at work—and it’s a joy to behold and hear.
With such a large terrain addressed—mourning a relative and
then the world beyond immediate family—it’s logical, too, that even humor
raises its mischievous head, e.g. this line
“There are two elites that rarely
meet and they are the hoity-toity and the artsy-fartsy”
immediately followed by
“The only elephant in sight is
calmer”
for a wonderful dead-pan effect. At times, humor’s presence
can attest to the author’s range and wisdom. That it exists here, I believe, is
a positive testament to Hejinian’s brain. After all, she says in her Preface,
“Laughter and weeping are not so very different from each other. And if logic
can’t prevail, perhaps hilarity can, as an attribute of a revolutionary
practice of everyday life, dismantling control and reforming connectivity.”
So. Because the brain can be trained, it seems to me that
these poems can last through at least this century whose beginnings are steeped
with demands to multi-understand (as in multi-task) the explosion of
information, including horrors, that have pressed their way into our most
private interiors.
I’ll end with a favorite excerpt from this book-length poem:
“Let us go then, you and I, in
pajamas through the sky, in which we’ll do a rice and pie, we’ll drink from
apples made of lace, we’ll topple statues, invent space
There in her hand is a slice of
bread, its surface just beginning to stiffen
Can we question this”
**
I want to indicate a, as they say, Shout-Out to the book’s cover art and cover artist Sofie Ramos. I thought the marriage of the visual and the
text to be effective—logical—in addition to being a lovely display of the
artist’s skill as a colorist. Here’s the
artist’s “PROCESS NOTE”:
It’s fair to say that Ramos’ own response to the poems are a
review as well, one with which I found empathy. I’m grateful to the publisher
OMNIDAWN and/or whoever thought to present the visual artist’s own take on the
poems. It’s a practice that should happen more often in poetry and other
publishing where art is a layer to the overall project.
*****
Eileen Tabios does not let her books be reviewed by Galatea Resurrects because she's its editor (the exception would be books that focus on other poets as well). She is pleased, though, to point you elsewhere to recent reviews of her work: THE CONNOISSEUR OF ALLEYS was reviewed by Marthe Reed for The Volta Blog and Grady Harp for Amazon; INVENT(ST)ORY was reviewed by Neil Leadbeater in The Halo-Halo Review Mangozine #2; Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole was reviewed by Monica Manolachi in The Halo-Halo Review Mangozine #2; Footnotes to Algebra was reviewed by Chris Mansel in The Halo-Halo Review Mangozine #2; and SILK EGG was reviewed by Aileen Ibardaloza in Goodreads.
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