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.
It’s been a while since I read Chris Edgoose’s admirable and enticing
review for The Friday Poem, here, of Geraldine Clarkson’s second full
collection, Med...
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