Meticulous observation, Jean Atkin's High Nowhere

High Nowhere (Indigo Dreams Publishing, 2023), Jean Atkin’s new collection, is packed with implicit and explicit sociopolitical ramifications that overtake the reader bit by bit, poem by poem. At first sight, it might seem a disparate book, but is highly coherent and cohesive, each section adding another layer to Atkin’s portrayal of a planet in crisis.

This above-mentioned portrayal sometimes addresses climate change directly, as in references to extinction (such as to the Tasmanian Tiger) and a poem titled ‘40.2 degrees’. And then it homes in on other negative impacts of human activity, as in ‘Earth’s viral load’…

To understand viruses, consider
how humans infest the earth.
How each one wants only to live.

At other times, however, Atkin’s approach is more indirect. One such example can be found in ‘A wish on the Glynch’, which ends as follows:

…Wish for water
say the millstones, wish for the grain’s flow
wish for bread, says the village
bread and summer sunshine, bread and ordinary snow
bread ground for us by the Glynch brook minnow!

In this case, the poem works in synch with the rest of the book via its evocation of the loss of local roots and food sources, hinting at the disappearance of a connection with the place where we live rather than stating it outright.

And this last point takes on additional significance once the collection’s focus shifts to Iceland, where nature might appear eternal, but where modern development also intrudes, as in the final stanza of ‘Power Lines’...

September, and I am being driven in the rain
past the new giants of Iceland, their electric spell.
I will keep listening in fear of the future,
in fear of the stories the pylons will tell.

Jean Atkin’s poetry never rants. Instead, it observes meticulously. On opening High Nowhere, we find ourselves in the hands of a poet who trusts us to reach our own conclusions on the back of her reportage. I dare you to finish reading this book and emerge indifferent to the role of humans in the plight of the Earth. That’s the mark of Atkin’s success.

A video from the London launch

Here’s a visual taster of Whatever You Do, Just Don’t, a video from the packed London launch in which I read a poem titled The Ghost of Tim Walker (with thanks to Flo, Mat Riches’ daughter, for shooting it). Enjoy…! 

Fire River Poets

I'll be the Guest Poet for Fire River Poets on 7th March, reading from Whatever You Do, Just Don't. This is a Zoom event (open to all but requiring prior registration). More info on the Fire River Poets website via this link.

A clear-eyed approach to grief, Christopher Arksey's Variety Turns

Variety Turns (Broken Sleep Books, 2023) is Christopher Arksey’s first pamphlet and is unusual in many ways. To start with, it’s thematic in nature rather than following the time-trusted route of providing an initial wide-ranging sample of the poet’s attributes. This decision alone indicates the poet’s confidence in his own writing, which also extends to a trust in his readers throughout these poems, never forcing arguments or conclusions, instead allowing layered details to speak for themselves.

The pamphlet revolves around the loss of a mother, tracking the process of her dying and then her family’s grief. Such highly personal subject matter means it’s far too easy to conflate the poet and the first-person protagonist, as is demonstrated by several of the otherwise insightful blurbs that accompany the book. However, Arksey himself refuses to fall into such a trap. One excellent example of his method is ‘Grief’, which I’ll now quote in full (with thanks to the poet himself for granting me permission to do so):

Indescribable,
though I’ve tried.
Failing in my usual
way of stumped silence
or inarticulate babble.
The best I can offer:
a permanent resident,
neither seen nor heard,
though their presence
is felt everywhere.

The poem combines self-deprecating humour with a clear-eyed, never maudlin attitude towards hefty themes, all alongside an implicit reminder that poetry is art and artifice rather than mere anecdote, as is reflected by Arksey’s explicit invocation of metaphor. Moreover, he engages with the suggestion that elegies are renowned for allowing the poet to overreach to express something that cannot be expressed. Arksey’s afore-mentioned self-deprecation undercuts such an approach, providing us with an implicit statement of poetic intent for the pamphlet as a whole, standing against received wisdom.

Both in approach and in execution, Variety Turns introduces us to a fully formed voice. A quick glance at the endorsements might suggest it’s a hard read, but Christopher Arksey’s light touch enables him to dodge any accusation of sentimentality or self-indulgence. This is a pamphlet that shows how pain can be turned into poetry without abandoning the reader, and that’s a considerable achievement in the current poetic climate.

Copy by copy...

Copy by copy, every hard-earned sale of a poetry collection is an act of trust, a contract between the poet and the reader that reaches far beyond money. This is why I refuse to shy away from reminding you about Whatever You Do, Just Don't. You can purchase it here.

Matthew Paul reviews Whatever You Do, Just Don't for Wild Court

Poetry’s a long game, full of tough waits and disappointments, but all of them pale into insignificance on a humbling day when someone whose critical opinions you value, who never chucks compliments around like confetti, writes incredibly generous stuff about your book. This is one of those special days.

Thanks are due to Matthew Paul for writing an exceptional review of Whatever You Do, Just Don't for Wild Court, and thanks to Robert Selby for publishing it. Here's a quick quote as a taster, but you can read it in full via this link.

Without fanfare and with measured economy, Stewart impeccably, and unbeatably, encapsulates the impact of time and culture on the minutiae of everyday life as it both was and now is.