Forthcoming readings in London and Cheltenham...

I've got two readings in the coming days, and I'd be delighted if any readers of Rogue Strands could come along and say hello!

First off, I'll be reading at our Rogue Strands event in London on 23rd April (at The Devereux, which is an ace venue). It's free entry, kicking off at 7 p.m..Poets from Carcanet, Red Squirrel, New Walk, Tall Lighthouse and HappenStance for your delectation. Rebecca Farmer, Paul Stephenson, Christopher Horton, Suzanna Fitzpatrick, Mat Riches and myself. All champing at the bit, all raring to read for you, all gagging to gallop to the bar (speaking for Mat and myself, at least)! And then on 25th April, I'll be reading at the Cheltenham Poetry Festival alongside Chris Hemingway, Ardith Brown and Taz Rahman. This event also starts at 7 p.m. and is ticketed (get hold of yours via this link). Having read there twice in the past, at Buzzwords and at Poetry Café Refreshed, I know full well that Cheltenham is a veritable poetry hotbed, so I'm delighted to be returning and hope to see a whole host of new and old faces...!

The Elephant in the Poetry Publishing Room

Right now, the Elephant in the Poetry Publishing Room isn’t funding, which is eternally being debated. No, there’s another issue that very few poetry publishers are prepared to discuss in public, and that’s the collapse in sales of single-poet collections.

Those sales were already low, but they’re now pitiful. And if you doubt the veracity of this statement, just take a trip over to the official Companies House website and have a look at a few sets of poetry publishers’ accounts. And read and weep.

Of course, amid the rush for that afore-mentioned funding, most publishers are only too keen to bury their disastrous sales figures. What’s more, if funding is what keeps their heads above water (rather than actually shifting units), they have little motivation to tackle the problem head-on. However, if we love books, it’s urgent that we should all discuss the reasons why customers are turning their backs on poetry collections, and then ask ourselves how we might turn things around.

First of all, what about those reasons? Well, to start with, the fall-out from the pandemic is still being felt. Audiences at festivals and in-person readings understandably remain lower than pre-Covid, given the average age of attendees. Meanwhile, online readings don’t seem to generate a similar level of interval and post-reading conversations between the poet and members of the audience (and by extension, thus bring about far fewer sales).

Moreover, the posting of free content on blogs, websites and social media is undoubtedly a major issue. Faced with such an abundance of riches, all available gratis, readers understandably wonder why they should bother investing in books.

It feels like a fundamental shift has taken place, as if the rules of the poetry publishing games have all changed, though most of the players haven’t noticed yet (or aren’t making any public acknowledgement of having done so). In this context, it’s especially important to assert the poetry collection’s value as an object, as a sensory experience, as a physical connection with the words that are printed on its pages, as an act of communication that reaches far beyond a screen. As a consequence, production values become even more important. The quality of the paper, of the cover design, of the typesetting, fonts, all become something to savour, something that lifts print-based poetry above a phone or tablet. That said, however, a balance needs to be struck between these materials and the affordability of collections, as sales are inevitably connected to retail prices.

And then there’s the permanent qualities of books against the transient nature of the internet. As readers, if we don't buy, read and treasure poetry collections, we'll be left with a random succession of poems to be scrolled through for free on a screen, consumed and forgotten in minutes.

This seems a pivotal moment for everyone involved in the poetry world. Sales aren’t an issue that only affects publishers. By extension, the problem also ripples out to poets and readers. Leaving aside the policies of ACE, if we ourselves don’t take the bull by the horns, get innovative in our poetic relationships and make an effort from all sides to embrace the importance of print-based poetry collections, we’ll lose the huge diversity of voices that are published every year in the U.K., in which case we’ll have nobody but ourselves to blame…

Rogue Strands reading in London on 23rd April

We'll be hosting thoroughbreds from several top-notch stables at Rogue Strands in London on 23rd April (at The Devereux, which is an ace venue). Poets from Carcanet, Red Squirrel, New Walk, Tall Lighthouse and HappenStance for your delectation. Farmer, Stephenson, Horton, Fitzpatrick, Stewart and Riches. All champing at the bit, all raring to read for you, all gagging to gallop to the bar (speaking for Mat and myself, at least)! It would be terrific to see you there...!

Guest Poet at Acacia Publications

Over at Fokkina McDonnell's Acacia Publications, I'm this month's guest poet (see this link) with three poems from Whatever You Do, Just Don't. One of them is titled Wendsday (sic, sic, sic!). Fokkina writes... "I admire the attention to detail, precision, and economy of Matthew Stewart's poems: so much between the lines…"

Scenes from a film, Nicholas Hogg's Missing Person

‘Cinematographic’ or ‘filmic’ aren’t habitual adjectives when describing the vast majority of contemporary U.K. poetry, but they provide an ideal point of departure for discussion of Nicholas Hogg’s first full collection, Missing Person (Broken Sleep Books, 2023).

In the above context, the last two stanzas from ‘Starring Role’ seem especially relevant:

Then a tea with the lads,
            the ruffle-haired cub. I wander off
from the gang — cue plaintive strings (not too loud)
            as I stand and stare from a new-build shell.
A reviewer may write
            that this is rather mawkish,

the boy at a window
in an empty home. What the critic
has failed to gather, is how the man will carry
            this void
            into every room he walks
            for the rest of his life.

These lines read as a statement of poetic intent. They’re comparing an individual person to a character, a fictional scene to a supposedly factual event, highlighting the blurred lines between the two, while they’re also anticipating a potential film critic/literary reviewer’s reticence at the poem’s struck poses. And all this, of course, plays out alongside a reference to an archetypal musical soundtrack for the event or film. Via these references, Hogg is implicitly asking us questions. Are we reading a poem or watching a film? Is it fact, faction or fiction?

The endings in Missing Person are particularly interesting. At first, they might often lead a reader to suggest that they’re taking an easy way out of the poem. However, an alternative conclusion presents itself once we view them as the closing shot in a mini-screenplay. This is when they suddenly become loaded with the connotations of Hollywood, toying with our expectations of life and cinema. One such poem is ‘Gun (With Englishman)’:

I want to add a detail here, like circling birds, or a dust devil swirl.

But, no. Just a fridge. And a target with a heart

blown out.

In this extract, the first person jumps from being a protagonist to taking on the role of the screenwriter. Or even the director. At this point, the reader is made aware that the poem is blending with a scene from a film, riffing on all those stereotypical plot twists and images that the big screen imposes.

These cinematographic poems are by far the most remarkable pieces in Missing Person. They stand out among the other strong but less striking poems that make up the rest of this collection, and are well worth the entrance fee to the book as a whole. Here’s hoping Nicholas Hogg’s future writing continues to explore and mine their potential, because they strike at the heart of a crucial issue in contemporary U.K. poetry - the blurring of the poet and the first person – and they do so with terrific, idiosyncratic insight. I recommend you read them for yourself!

Tasting Notes on YouTube

Thanks to my new YouTube channel, I’ve managed to upload the poetry film of Tasting Notes that we made back in 2013. The pamphlet might be out of print, but at least this gives the poems themselves a new lease of life…!

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.

Neil Elder reviews Whatever You Do, Just Don't for The High Window

Neil Elder has written a perceptive and generous review of Whatever You Do, Just Don't for The High Window. Thanks to the editor, David Cooke, for commissioning and publishing it. You can read the article in full via this link (clicking on my name will take you straight to it), but here's the first paragraph as a taster...

"Is it considered old-fashioned to produce eminently ‘readable’ poems? Pieces that are accessible and that directly communicate with the reader? If so, then Whatever You Do, Just Don’t is out of joint with the times, because the collection is one of the most ‘readable’ and translucent that I have read in a long time..."

Stephen Payne's new poetry blog

Stephen's Payne's not only an excellent poet but also an excellent critic. And by extension, his new poetry blog promises to be excellent too.

Given his scientific background, a lazy reader might be tempted to describe Payne's approach as forensic and thorough, but that would ignore his honed sensitivity. For instance, the first post on his blog is packed with both emotional and technical insight into Billy Collin's poetry. You can read it by following this link.

John Field reviews Whatever You Do, Just Don't at Poor Rude Lines

Catching up on good stuff that's happened over the festive period: John Field has posted a gorgeously sculpted review of Whatever You Do, Just Don't over at Poor Rude Lines. Yet again, I'm grateful for his huge generosity. Here's a brief quote...
Matthew Stewart’s second collection, Whatever You Do, Just Don’t, offers its own meditation on sun and shadow. Small observations on living between Spain and the UK, family life and, of course, the beautiful game, might seem unrelated but, as the collection unfolds, these elements pull together as a bitter-sweet meditation on love and loss. 

And you can read it in full via this link. 

The Yorkshire Times' Books of the Year

Whatever You Do, Just Don't has been chosen by The Yorkshire Times as one of their Books of the Year 2023. Thanks to Steve Whitaker, the literary editor, for his selection. Here's a quick quote from the article... "...Whatever You Do, Just Don’t is as warming and as compelling as the fine Spanish wine that Stewart blends..." And you can read the feature in full via this link.