Jim
Bennett: The
Man Who Tried To Hug Clouds
(Bluechrome Publishing, Portishead.
ISBN 1-904781-31-4, pb, £7.99)
Les
Merton: As
Yesterday Begins
(Bluechrome Publishing, Portishead.
ISBN 1-904781-30-6, pb, £7.99)
Dee
Rimbaud: Dropping
Ecstacy With The Angels
(Bluechrome Publishing, Portishead.
ISBN 1-904781-06-3, pb, £7.99)
These books from the publisher Bluechrome are sturdy, clearly printed,
interestingly laid out and certainly not slim. The dated appearance
of the covers' desk top collage, however, gives early indication
that what you are about to read may not be as innovative as some
of the titles might suggest.
As
Yesterday Begins by Les Merton starts off with a sequence of nostalgic, but
far from transcendent, hippy poems recalling
the
naivety of a
way of life long since lost, prior to introducing us to one of
the other major topics of his writing, Cornwall. But here
and throughout
the more personal lyrics, we remain on the surface of the language
and are seldom borne away by it. Merton's work is at times
clever and he employs the dramatic shift at the end of some of
his poems to good effect, but he is at his best when vernacular
and humorous.
In Dropping
Ecstasy With The Angels by Dee Rimbaud you feel you
are in the presence of a committed writer who probably has
more interesting
work to follow but has
not fully achieved it here. His portraits of women and their lives are
sensitive, imaginative and he presents their suffering with
feeling and understanding.
I enjoyed reading 'My Father, The Painter' with its neat balance
of language and emotion, and poems such as 'Blood Leaf',
'Vagina
Envy' and 'Virtual Virus'. The drug poems which the book's
title exploits, in fact form a fairly small section of the book, but for
me they were tired (Burroughs, Dylan and Welch having arrived
before and squeezed the
surprise out of it), though you may imagine cognoscenti nodding
sagely at some of the images and references. Rimbaud draws heavily for
his imagery on Celtic, Christian and Indian mythology and
often, especially in his more religious
poems, betrays himself as a New Age priest, whom you either agree with
or are damned. Like Merton, he uses eastern forms; but as
with Merton's Haiku,
he lacks the lightness of touch of a Basho to guide the reader on a pathway
of discovery, preferring instead to provide the commentary.
A novel by Rimbaud is
due out this August which, given his facility with language and good exploitation
of the prose poem, should make for an interesting read.
Jim
Bennett is a performance artist and in The
Man Who Tried To Hug Clouds he presents us with a full
range of his material. Performance poetry needs
to be
direct, comprehensible on first hearing and possess a discernible individual
voice, all of which are present in this volume. His writing about love
and loss is poignant and his poetic monologue 'Down in Liverpool' works
well,
but as with the other two writers there is a déjà vu about
the writing
— too many echoes here of the Liverpool poets of the 60s
and 70s and Beat poetry
of nearly a generation earlier. The language he uses is simple and crafted
and his
work at its best reveals a genuine human warmth, humour and sensitivity;
the blend of individual quirkiness and Scouse folk-wisdom really does
cry out to
have the author's voice performing it for you. There is a CD available
and this may be the best starting point into Bennett's writing if you
haven't already come across it.
Included
in the works of each of these three poets are strong elements of
comment, portrait and autobiography, giving them,
if not an automatic
artistic value,
an interesting social one. Each is a prolific writer and each articulates
the world
as he experiences it. Interestingly, they share a dismissiveness of
intellectual life, yet proudly present their learning as
if acquired by a sort of
osmosis. However, each is true to his vision and honest and direct
in the way he
presents it.