Pam Rehm : Small
Works
(Flood Editions, Chicago, 2005; pb, 5.5"x7.8",
63pp, $12.95; isbn 0-9746902-6-0)
The poems in Small Works are short pieces and sequences of short pieces—small
works—but "small" describes not only their length but
the pieces' style as well. The poems are spare. They foreground
white space, silence, and the precise unfolding of language and idea.
The poems' speaker moves not from place to place but between the
remnants experience has left her. Each line feels legitimated by hard
thought and expresses, or seeks, hard truth. The mind within these poems
enters and contemplates moments, meticulously separating from the daily,
the domain of the self, perhaps the domain of the soul. For Rehm, abstractions
such as memory and wonder have an almost personal presence and are, in
places, literally embodied as in the poem "Charm for Sleep" where "Fear
has an ear / in it."
The title Small Works is, in one way, misleading. It suggests that
the book might read as if it were assembled to catalogue a subset
of the poet's corpus. However, the poems are not an odd gathering
of pieces united only by their size, but share an animating sensibility
and the project of drawing language from truth and truth from language.
One exemplary case is the poem "Eden" which begins:
Endure has an end
you may rue
at the outset
But it also has need
and need is an Eden
"Eden" goes beyond being merely clever. That is, it has
more to offer than the realization that the word "endure" contains
letters to spell the words "end" and "rue" and
that the letters in "need" can be reordered to produce "Eden." Here,
anagrammatic play provides a means for revealing the connections between
words, but the true link, it seems, is born from the speaker's
experience of their meanings. The valence of the letters depends, as
Rehm writes later in the poem, on "How I hold it." One doesn't
feel as if Rehm shook the words to see what fell out, but that these
meanings had been hidden all along. This notion about language—that
its arrangement and rearrangement conjures an already existent understanding
or belief—seems central to Rehm's work.
In this and other ways, Small Works, Rehm's
sixth collection, roams similar terrain to her previous books, especially
Gone to Earth and The Garment in Which No One Had Slept. In this new
book though, her language is as stark and honed as ever.
While Rehm's references include symbolically charged Biblical
imagery (e.g. paradise, Hell, Solomon, shepherds, lamb), her primary
subject is not faith but the experience of faith, which is to say the
poems' threads
spread from an individual dwelling in the world rather than a pure,
impersonal concept. The poems unfold with a careful beauty of thought—an
authority—that
announces a mind in contemplation of the world. For example, her
poem "Bow
Down" tracks spiritual longing while observing the natural world.
Rehm writes:
Faith comes to one noiseless
and yet, keeps one exasperated
Eager to touch touch
A bird's nest
Here, as elsewhere in the poem, the physical and spiritual are blurred
as faith and touch are intertwined.
Small Works is divided into two sections. The second section, titled "Acts," accounts
for approximately the last third of the collection. Here, the linkages
between poems are most apparent, signaled by each poems title as
an act: "Acts
of Anxiety," "Acts of Will," "Acts of Knowledge," etc.
The poems share the project of distilling abstractions to essential
associations and experiences. Such is case with "Acts of Habit" where
the speaker equates habit (and building a habitat) with myth-making
and, in turn, creation myths. She writes:
A spider's web rebuilt at dawn
With nothing wasted
Does not change with the times
So earthly and ancient
The myth of morning
The morning makes us
Given the ways insight springs from these poems' spare gestures,
perhaps the title Small Works refers not to the poetic works but to the
work that precedes their making: the daily personal exchanges between
belief and reality, and the wresting from language what one can be said
to know (not to the poems, some of them titled "Acts," but
to the acts themselves). In Rehm's hands, this work—like
the poems—is much more significant than it first appears and is
imbued with a richness and urgency that beckons us to return.