My local writers group began as a "Circle" in 1948. It removed "Circle"
from its name decades ago because of the connotations that "Circle" had
then. Tho...
Showing posts with label Matt Merritt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Matt Merritt. Show all posts
Thursday, 27 April 2017
Surroundings Two
When I started Rogue Strands back in 2009, my main points of reference were poetry blogs from two HappenStance pamphleteers who've since gone on to publish multiple full collections: Matt Merritt at Polyolbion and Rob Mackenzie at Surroundings. The latter petered out in 2014, but I'm delighted to report that Rob's now started a new blog, aptly titled Surroundings Two. It's kicked off with a couple of excellent posts that you can read here.
Thursday, 31 March 2016
A life lit up by birds
The Daily Telegraph has today published a lovely interview with Matt Merritt in anticipation of the publication of his new prose book, A Sky Full Of Birds. In the interview, Merritt explains the role of birdwatching after his sister's death. As a consequence, I've spent this afternoon with his first pamphlet, Making the most of the light, which is dedicated to Rebecca Merritt.
I've always been aware of the presence of birds in Merritt's poetry, but never before have I really managed to home in on how he interweaves them with human beings, how they illustrate our lives, how they light up his life.
Here are a few snippets:
"...the half-hidden wrecks, the drowned bells,
the constant sarcasm of the seagulls..."
"...late sun picks out
the blush on a wintering goosander's white breast,
where moments earlier there was only a man..."
"...two ravens tumbling
high above, then into the valley to lead us home..."
"...I can see your hall of mirrors smile,
and your eyebrows, an artic tern taking flight."
Birds are viewed from a human perspective, yet they also act as a refreshed and refreshing point of reference for human relations. They enrich Merritt's verse and add another integral layer of texture to one of the most interesting poets around.
I've always been aware of the presence of birds in Merritt's poetry, but never before have I really managed to home in on how he interweaves them with human beings, how they illustrate our lives, how they light up his life.
Here are a few snippets:
"...the half-hidden wrecks, the drowned bells,
the constant sarcasm of the seagulls..."
"...late sun picks out
the blush on a wintering goosander's white breast,
where moments earlier there was only a man..."
"...two ravens tumbling
high above, then into the valley to lead us home..."
"...I can see your hall of mirrors smile,
and your eyebrows, an artic tern taking flight."
Birds are viewed from a human perspective, yet they also act as a refreshed and refreshing point of reference for human relations. They enrich Merritt's verse and add another integral layer of texture to one of the most interesting poets around.
Wednesday, 4 November 2015
Comeback
There are certain books that inhabit my desk. I love to have them close at hand, to pick them up and encounter old friends: poems that accompany me.
One such example is Matt Merritt's Making The Most Of The Light. Back in 2005, it was one of the first ever pamphlets to be published by HappenStance Press and is long out of print. Of course, Merritt's verse has developed since then, and I also very much enjoy his later books, but the poems from that early pamphlet are special to me. Moreover, he didn't include any of them in his full collections, so there's a certain rarity value involved.
Perhaps my personal favourite is "Comeback". I'm grateful to Matt Merritt himself for permission to reprint the poem in full here:
Comeback
And to finish I'll double
- no, treble - the black.
Corner pocket, after getting
just enough screwback
on the final red.
This one's for all the times
we played for safety
when we could have played
for so much more.
For all the times we worried
about keeping
one foot on the floor.
I requested the afore-mentioned permission because short quotes wouldn't have done the piece justice. It's only on reading the whole poem that its emotional power, expressed with elegant simplicity, becomes clear.
"Comeback" begins with apparent liberation: an extravagant shot to finish a frame. From there on, Merritt qualifies the act. Syntax marries perfectly with semantics, as linguisitic and emotional restraint come together. By the final stanza, the reader has realised that the shot on the black is far from a liberation: in fact, it's an expression of anger at not having achieved any liberation at all.
As a consequence, the reader is sent scampering back to the start as soon as they reach the end: a terrific quality for any poem to possess. Limpid language doesn't have to be facile. In Merritt's hands, it's textured and layered. That's why I love his verse.
One such example is Matt Merritt's Making The Most Of The Light. Back in 2005, it was one of the first ever pamphlets to be published by HappenStance Press and is long out of print. Of course, Merritt's verse has developed since then, and I also very much enjoy his later books, but the poems from that early pamphlet are special to me. Moreover, he didn't include any of them in his full collections, so there's a certain rarity value involved.
Perhaps my personal favourite is "Comeback". I'm grateful to Matt Merritt himself for permission to reprint the poem in full here:
Comeback
And to finish I'll double
- no, treble - the black.
Corner pocket, after getting
just enough screwback
on the final red.
This one's for all the times
we played for safety
when we could have played
for so much more.
For all the times we worried
about keeping
one foot on the floor.
I requested the afore-mentioned permission because short quotes wouldn't have done the piece justice. It's only on reading the whole poem that its emotional power, expressed with elegant simplicity, becomes clear.
"Comeback" begins with apparent liberation: an extravagant shot to finish a frame. From there on, Merritt qualifies the act. Syntax marries perfectly with semantics, as linguisitic and emotional restraint come together. By the final stanza, the reader has realised that the shot on the black is far from a liberation: in fact, it's an expression of anger at not having achieved any liberation at all.
As a consequence, the reader is sent scampering back to the start as soon as they reach the end: a terrific quality for any poem to possess. Limpid language doesn't have to be facile. In Merritt's hands, it's textured and layered. That's why I love his verse.
Thursday, 21 May 2015
How do we read a poetry collection?
This is a key question that I find myself pondering as I work on the order of poems in the mansucript for my first full collection. Do we read from cover to cover or do we dip in where the book just happens to open?
Well, my own feeling is that people read in both ways. As for myself, I tend to move through a collection from start to finish on a first reading. This is to try to get a grip on how it ebbs and flows. Afterwards, however, I'll return to the book at random, flicking back and forth, digging more deeply into individual pieces.
As a consequence, I'm breaking my poems down into pairs that engage in dialogues with each other, all within the framework of how I want the collection to read as a whole. Furthermore, I'm continually bearing in mind Matt Merritt's remarks to me in a conversation a few years ago: as a journalist in his day job, he felt we often read poetry books much as we read newspapers, in that the right-hand page attracts more of our attention.
After every revision I print up and provisionally bind the collection, ensuring that the left-hand, right-hand ordering is respected throughout. I then go back over it, viewing it as a whole, viewing it in pairs. All those revisions will click into place one day, just like when I chip away at an individual poem, and I'll suddenly know the manuscript is ready!
Well, my own feeling is that people read in both ways. As for myself, I tend to move through a collection from start to finish on a first reading. This is to try to get a grip on how it ebbs and flows. Afterwards, however, I'll return to the book at random, flicking back and forth, digging more deeply into individual pieces.
As a consequence, I'm breaking my poems down into pairs that engage in dialogues with each other, all within the framework of how I want the collection to read as a whole. Furthermore, I'm continually bearing in mind Matt Merritt's remarks to me in a conversation a few years ago: as a journalist in his day job, he felt we often read poetry books much as we read newspapers, in that the right-hand page attracts more of our attention.
After every revision I print up and provisionally bind the collection, ensuring that the left-hand, right-hand ordering is respected throughout. I then go back over it, viewing it as a whole, viewing it in pairs. All those revisions will click into place one day, just like when I chip away at an individual poem, and I'll suddenly know the manuscript is ready!
Thursday, 22 August 2013
The ebbing of absolutes, Matt Merritt's The Elephant Tests
Matt Merritt's poetry has always stood out for the texturing of its nuances. However, in The Elephant Tests (Nine Arches Press, 2013), his third full collection, Merritt has taken that process a step further.
Throughout the book, he is undermining any sense of absolutes or permanence, his endings playing a key role. They tend to qualify and cast doubt on what comes before, as in the following example from "Always". The first stanza seems affirmative as it sets off, clear in its statements:
"Memory abhors a vacuum. It seeds a coarse grass
between every bloom..."
The above beginning contrasts with the poem's closing lines:
"...Maybe this happened again and again,
maybe just that once. We can live by such uncertainty."
The repetition of "maybe" is topped off by "uncertainty". Nothing is as it appears.
In the same way, flux and movement pervade "The Elephant Tests", forever unsettling and challenging the reader, yet not via crude shocks. Instead, scenes and narratives shift in their portrayal, as in "The Capercaillie". At first, it...
"hasn't moved for the fifteen minutes
we've been watching..."
Nevertheless, a few lines later...
"And already, she's a shadow of herself, a last held breath
away from slipping out of sight. It's easily done."
The poem provides us with two implicit comparisons here: between stasis and transience, between the natural and the human world.
Matt Merritt builds layer upon layer of such subtleties. He is a specialist in trusting his reader. However, he's also capable of gorgeous unveilings of freshly cast images. Never flashy, never needing to show off, he yokes them to the purpose of his verse and they are richer for that. He's always been terrific at endings (as illustrated above), but this one, from "Long Story Short", ranks among his best:
"...the bubblewrap sound
of a car receding over cobbles."
What's more, Merritt is acutely aware that restraint and control are often insufficient. An overreaching is crucial to an understanding of what defies expression. One such example comes at the start of "Chirimoya":
"Custard apple. Sweetsop. Guanabana.
Mostly, it's the human heart..."
In this case, the poet starts by seeking a definition via a list. The pauses are deliberate. And then, all of a sudden, there's a delicious tingle of impatience as he accelerates and brings the reader to the core thrust of his inspiration.
The Elephant Tests shows a fully mature poet who continues to explore the relationship between verse and his life. Merritt accompanies us on a poetic journey that forces us to reflect on ever-growing uncertainties. In that vein, I'd like to end this review with the lines that bring this exceptional collection to a close:
"You still don't know what the elephant looks like,
but today looks a lot like the elephant."
Throughout the book, he is undermining any sense of absolutes or permanence, his endings playing a key role. They tend to qualify and cast doubt on what comes before, as in the following example from "Always". The first stanza seems affirmative as it sets off, clear in its statements:
"Memory abhors a vacuum. It seeds a coarse grass
between every bloom..."
The above beginning contrasts with the poem's closing lines:
"...Maybe this happened again and again,
maybe just that once. We can live by such uncertainty."
The repetition of "maybe" is topped off by "uncertainty". Nothing is as it appears.
In the same way, flux and movement pervade "The Elephant Tests", forever unsettling and challenging the reader, yet not via crude shocks. Instead, scenes and narratives shift in their portrayal, as in "The Capercaillie". At first, it...
"hasn't moved for the fifteen minutes
we've been watching..."
Nevertheless, a few lines later...
"And already, she's a shadow of herself, a last held breath
away from slipping out of sight. It's easily done."
The poem provides us with two implicit comparisons here: between stasis and transience, between the natural and the human world.
Matt Merritt builds layer upon layer of such subtleties. He is a specialist in trusting his reader. However, he's also capable of gorgeous unveilings of freshly cast images. Never flashy, never needing to show off, he yokes them to the purpose of his verse and they are richer for that. He's always been terrific at endings (as illustrated above), but this one, from "Long Story Short", ranks among his best:
"...the bubblewrap sound
of a car receding over cobbles."
What's more, Merritt is acutely aware that restraint and control are often insufficient. An overreaching is crucial to an understanding of what defies expression. One such example comes at the start of "Chirimoya":
"Custard apple. Sweetsop. Guanabana.
Mostly, it's the human heart..."
In this case, the poet starts by seeking a definition via a list. The pauses are deliberate. And then, all of a sudden, there's a delicious tingle of impatience as he accelerates and brings the reader to the core thrust of his inspiration.
The Elephant Tests shows a fully mature poet who continues to explore the relationship between verse and his life. Merritt accompanies us on a poetic journey that forces us to reflect on ever-growing uncertainties. In that vein, I'd like to end this review with the lines that bring this exceptional collection to a close:
"You still don't know what the elephant looks like,
but today looks a lot like the elephant."
Tuesday, 16 July 2013
Matt Merritt's new collection
Matt Merritt's new collection, The Elephant Tests, is now out from Nine Arches Press. I'm really looking to getting hold of a copy and will report back on Rogue Strands in due course. In the meantime, here's a link to one of the poems from the book on Ink, Sweat and Tears. It certainly whets my appetite!
Saturday, 6 October 2012
Thank you
I'd like to thank all the people who made it along to my readings last week in Coventry and Uppingham. You all contributed to making the evenings so enjoyable. Special thanks are particularly due to Antony Owen for organising Nightblue Fruit and to Matt Merritt for helping me out with all the two-voiced poems in Uppingham. As the latter mentions in his kind review on Polyolbion, it was a pretty unusual poetry reading!
The Coventry event was held at a lovely venue (Taylor John's house) at the city's Canal Basin. It showed off much of what's so special about the U.K.'s thriving live poetry scene: everyone engaged throughout the open mic slots, before giving me a great welcome for my reading. I even sold a good number of books!
As for Uppingham, it was lovely to combine poetry with wine in such an unpretentious way. Ben and Emma from Bat and Bottle Wine Merchants provided the ideal platform and audience. All of them were so open to the poems in spite of not being regular readers of verse! I was delighted to discover "in situ" that Tasting Notes does hit the mark in this respect. Its aim is to be accessible without being facile, to engage with people and surprise them. Suffice to say, the after-event wine tasting also went on well into the night!
The Coventry event was held at a lovely venue (Taylor John's house) at the city's Canal Basin. It showed off much of what's so special about the U.K.'s thriving live poetry scene: everyone engaged throughout the open mic slots, before giving me a great welcome for my reading. I even sold a good number of books!
As for Uppingham, it was lovely to combine poetry with wine in such an unpretentious way. Ben and Emma from Bat and Bottle Wine Merchants provided the ideal platform and audience. All of them were so open to the poems in spite of not being regular readers of verse! I was delighted to discover "in situ" that Tasting Notes does hit the mark in this respect. Its aim is to be accessible without being facile, to engage with people and surprise them. Suffice to say, the after-event wine tasting also went on well into the night!
Monday, 16 January 2012
Matt Merritt on Ink, Sweat and Tears
Helen Ivory continues to publish all sorts of interesting stuff over at Ink, Sweat and Tears. Most recently, I've especially enjoyed Matt Merritt's terrific poem, Chirimoya. You can read it here. Merritt's piece chimes with my interest in food-related poetry, plus there's the inevitable Hispanic angle.
I still remember the first time I tried a chirimoya...it seemed almost alien, but was actually grown on the Granada coast, along with a wide range of tropical fruits that thrive in the microclimate down there. These days you can find it in shops all over Spain, as the fashion for tropical fruit reaches Iberia too.
I still remember the first time I tried a chirimoya...it seemed almost alien, but was actually grown on the Granada coast, along with a wide range of tropical fruits that thrive in the microclimate down there. These days you can find it in shops all over Spain, as the fashion for tropical fruit reaches Iberia too.
Wednesday, 31 August 2011
Interview on Polyolbion
Over at his excellent Polyolbion blog, Matt Merritt has kindly published an extensive interview with me. Our discussion takes in bilingualism, syllabics, Happenstance Press, poets' fetishes and many things in between! To top it off, three poems from Inventing Truth are also posted at the end of the interview.
Saturday, 21 May 2011
New Walk Issue Two
Despite far too many work commitments, I'm snatching time every now and then to read and write as much poetry as possible. At the top of the pending pile was Issue Two of New Walk magazine, where I was delighted to appear myself with three poems from Inventing Truth.
This second issue confirms that New Walk marks the first emergence for a long time of a major new player in printed poetry magazines in the U.K.. The editors continue their policy of juxtaposing contrasting yet equally valid approaches - for example, I encountered my poems alongside intriguing pieces by Carrie Etter - and seem set on reclaiming key ground for a successful outlet of this ilk.
In other words, New Walk is introducing little-known voices to a wider audience, while also providing a platform for more established poets to showcase new work. Dan Wyke, for instance, can be found exploring extremely interesting ground beyond his first collection with a poem titled School Fête. Alice Oswald, meanwhile, features with part of Memorial, her forthcoming book.
As for the reviews, they continue to draw attention to excellent new books, such as Matt Merritt's fine collection, hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica.
All in all, what with its top-notch production values and terrific artwork, New Walk is now one of the poetry magazines I most enjoy. I certainly recommend you get hold of a copy!
This second issue confirms that New Walk marks the first emergence for a long time of a major new player in printed poetry magazines in the U.K.. The editors continue their policy of juxtaposing contrasting yet equally valid approaches - for example, I encountered my poems alongside intriguing pieces by Carrie Etter - and seem set on reclaiming key ground for a successful outlet of this ilk.
In other words, New Walk is introducing little-known voices to a wider audience, while also providing a platform for more established poets to showcase new work. Dan Wyke, for instance, can be found exploring extremely interesting ground beyond his first collection with a poem titled School Fête. Alice Oswald, meanwhile, features with part of Memorial, her forthcoming book.
As for the reviews, they continue to draw attention to excellent new books, such as Matt Merritt's fine collection, hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica.
All in all, what with its top-notch production values and terrific artwork, New Walk is now one of the poetry magazines I most enjoy. I certainly recommend you get hold of a copy!
Friday, 22 April 2011
Back in Extremadura
So I'm back in Extremadura, having filled my tank to the brim with great poetry, people, conversation and beer (not necessarily in that order!). It might not be fair to pick out any highlights, but that won't stop me doing so.
Up in Edinburgh, meeting Helena Nelson for the first time was special. The evening summed up just why she's an excellent editor, as she listened to my reading before encouraging and challenging me in equal measure.
Thanks in no small measure to her advice, the Leicester Shindig went off extremely well. I felt very comfortable while reading and the audience were terrific. Best of all though, I was finally able to share a couple of pints with Matt Merritt and put a speaking voice to his poems. Gary Longden has posted a very positive review of the event here.
Launching Inventing Truth was a wonderful experience and has given me the taste for more. I intend to come over for a further set of readings in the U.K. this autumn and would be delighted to hear from any event organisers who might be able to fit me in!
Up in Edinburgh, meeting Helena Nelson for the first time was special. The evening summed up just why she's an excellent editor, as she listened to my reading before encouraging and challenging me in equal measure.
Thanks in no small measure to her advice, the Leicester Shindig went off extremely well. I felt very comfortable while reading and the audience were terrific. Best of all though, I was finally able to share a couple of pints with Matt Merritt and put a speaking voice to his poems. Gary Longden has posted a very positive review of the event here.
Launching Inventing Truth was a wonderful experience and has given me the taste for more. I intend to come over for a further set of readings in the U.K. this autumn and would be delighted to hear from any event organisers who might be able to fit me in!
Wednesday, 13 April 2011
Edinburgh launch and Leicester reading
I'm heading down to Seville tomorrow morning to catch a flight over to the U.K., ready to enjoy a couple of days with my parents and then two extremely promising nights packed with poetry.
This coming Sunday (17th April) I'll be launching Inventing Truth in Edinburgh at "Poetry at the...", reading alongside Steven Waling and Ryan Van Winkle. The three of us should represent a pretty broad spectrum and range of poetic approaches, so I'm really looking forward to the evening and am grateful to Rob Mac for offering me the chance to take part. The venue is The Store (formerly the GRV), 35 Guthrie St, Edinburgh (just off Chambers St) from 7.45-9.45pm. Entry £4.00, concessions £3. What's more, I gather I'll even get the chance to meet Helena Nelson, my editor at Happenstance, for the first time!
Meanwhile, the following evening (Monday 18th April) should see me in Leicester. Nine Arches Press have kindly asked me to appear at their Shindig! with Matt Merritt, Maria Taylor and Kathleen Bell. I've long looked forward to hearing Matt read, so it's a real pleasure to participate in an event with him. The venue in this case is The Western on Western Road. Entry's free and proceedings are scheduled to begin at 7.30 p.m..
It would be great to meet any readers of this blog who could get to either event!
This coming Sunday (17th April) I'll be launching Inventing Truth in Edinburgh at "Poetry at the...", reading alongside Steven Waling and Ryan Van Winkle. The three of us should represent a pretty broad spectrum and range of poetic approaches, so I'm really looking forward to the evening and am grateful to Rob Mac for offering me the chance to take part. The venue is The Store (formerly the GRV), 35 Guthrie St, Edinburgh (just off Chambers St) from 7.45-9.45pm. Entry £4.00, concessions £3. What's more, I gather I'll even get the chance to meet Helena Nelson, my editor at Happenstance, for the first time!
Meanwhile, the following evening (Monday 18th April) should see me in Leicester. Nine Arches Press have kindly asked me to appear at their Shindig! with Matt Merritt, Maria Taylor and Kathleen Bell. I've long looked forward to hearing Matt read, so it's a real pleasure to participate in an event with him. The venue in this case is The Western on Western Road. Entry's free and proceedings are scheduled to begin at 7.30 p.m..
It would be great to meet any readers of this blog who could get to either event!
Tuesday, 25 January 2011
Review: hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica, by Matt Merritt
Nine Arches Press have recently brought out Matt Merritt’s second collection, titled hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica, and I’ve been very much enjoying it these past few weeks.
While his previous books (Making The Most Of The Light and Troy Town) were extremely satisfying reads, hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica reaches much further and should ensure that Merritt’s poetry gets the recognition it deserves. With this collection he’s fully establishing himself in a territory where few British poets move with assurance and imagination: history. As a university graduate in the subject, Merritt’s touch with his material is deft, but we’re not just talking about his dealing with public figures and events here. Natural and personal histories are evoked and their parallels with that afore-mentioned public aspect of history are underlined through subtle juxtaposition and recurring motifs, lifting poems way above mere academic interest.
For example, on a personal level “A Fixer-Upper” deals with an intimate setting. Written in the first person plural, it talks of “alternative versions of past/and future”, just as “Lyonesse” finds the narrator waiting in a café, “deep in conversation with myself,/finally getting on with my past…”. and "Halcyon" ends with “the past submerged, the future flown.”
In public terms, meanwhile, we encounter “Dreams From The Anchor Church”. A dramatic monologue in the voice of an Anglo-Saxon solitary, this poem talks of how the narrator “struck out with my face to the future/to find myself walking through the past.”
Merritt thus implicitly draws comparisons between different types of histories, showing us how the study of the subject opens up avenues of more personal understandings. These threads flourish as the collection moves on and are drawn together in several pieces such as from “Tesserae”, in which the contemporary narrator contemplates the history of a city and how it’s interwoven with the history of his life. The poem begins with…
“Having rewritten the past
a dozen times this morning,
I find myself at the museum
next to the Wall.
I haven’t been
since I was 10, but it’s still the
case that everything
happened a very long time ago…”
“Ambition” might be an overused word when discussing poetry, often mistakenly used as a synonym for “experimental”. However, in the case of hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica I do believe it’s applicable, specifically in the breadth and coherence of Merritt’s treatment of history, in the way he harnesses poetry’s transforming qualities to cast new light on age-old themes, enabling the reader to view the past from a different perspective so as to apply it to the present and future. All in all, this is an outstanding collection in the context of present-day U.K. poetry, and I thoroughly recommend it to the readers of Rogue Strands.
While his previous books (Making The Most Of The Light and Troy Town) were extremely satisfying reads, hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica reaches much further and should ensure that Merritt’s poetry gets the recognition it deserves. With this collection he’s fully establishing himself in a territory where few British poets move with assurance and imagination: history. As a university graduate in the subject, Merritt’s touch with his material is deft, but we’re not just talking about his dealing with public figures and events here. Natural and personal histories are evoked and their parallels with that afore-mentioned public aspect of history are underlined through subtle juxtaposition and recurring motifs, lifting poems way above mere academic interest.
For example, on a personal level “A Fixer-Upper” deals with an intimate setting. Written in the first person plural, it talks of “alternative versions of past/and future”, just as “Lyonesse” finds the narrator waiting in a café, “deep in conversation with myself,/finally getting on with my past…”. and "Halcyon" ends with “the past submerged, the future flown.”
In public terms, meanwhile, we encounter “Dreams From The Anchor Church”. A dramatic monologue in the voice of an Anglo-Saxon solitary, this poem talks of how the narrator “struck out with my face to the future/to find myself walking through the past.”
Merritt thus implicitly draws comparisons between different types of histories, showing us how the study of the subject opens up avenues of more personal understandings. These threads flourish as the collection moves on and are drawn together in several pieces such as from “Tesserae”, in which the contemporary narrator contemplates the history of a city and how it’s interwoven with the history of his life. The poem begins with…
“Having rewritten the past
a dozen times this morning,
I find myself at the museum
next to the Wall.
I haven’t been
since I was 10, but it’s still the
case that everything
happened a very long time ago…”
“Ambition” might be an overused word when discussing poetry, often mistakenly used as a synonym for “experimental”. However, in the case of hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica I do believe it’s applicable, specifically in the breadth and coherence of Merritt’s treatment of history, in the way he harnesses poetry’s transforming qualities to cast new light on age-old themes, enabling the reader to view the past from a different perspective so as to apply it to the present and future. All in all, this is an outstanding collection in the context of present-day U.K. poetry, and I thoroughly recommend it to the readers of Rogue Strands.
Saturday, 20 November 2010
Launch of hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica
I've admired Matt Merritt's writing for several years, ever since I encountered his excellent Happenstance pamphlet, Making The Most Of The Light, followed by his first full collection, Troy Town.
This Sunday evening sees the launch of his second collection, hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica, published by Nine Arches Press, at Jam Cafe, 12 Heathcote Street, Nottingham. I'd love to get along, but finding myself in deepest Extremadura might be something of a handicap.
In any case, I'll certainly be getting hold of a copy as soon as possible. Michelle McGrane featured a number of poems from the book a couple of days ago and it looks terrific!
This Sunday evening sees the launch of his second collection, hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica, published by Nine Arches Press, at Jam Cafe, 12 Heathcote Street, Nottingham. I'd love to get along, but finding myself in deepest Extremadura might be something of a handicap.
In any case, I'll certainly be getting hold of a copy as soon as possible. Michelle McGrane featured a number of poems from the book a couple of days ago and it looks terrific!
Monday, 6 September 2010
Poetry for this sutumn
Lots of tasty morsels are coming up this autumn on the poetry reading front. My bank account might complain, but I'm determined to grab as many as possible.
I'm definitely going to be getting hold of a copy of Birdhouse, Anna Woodford's first full collection from Salt, which looks like being a real contender for major awards. Over at Nine Arches Press, meanwhile, November will see the publication of Matt Merritt's second collection, Hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica. It should consolidate his growing reputation. Finally, I'll try to stretch my budget to Allison McVety's Miming Happiness. I'm intrigued to see where she's taken her poetry since her excellent first book, The Night Trotsky Came to Stay. Other collections are sure to come to my attention over the next few weeks, but these have already made the list.
All in all, an autumn of terrific reading awaits!
I'm definitely going to be getting hold of a copy of Birdhouse, Anna Woodford's first full collection from Salt, which looks like being a real contender for major awards. Over at Nine Arches Press, meanwhile, November will see the publication of Matt Merritt's second collection, Hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica. It should consolidate his growing reputation. Finally, I'll try to stretch my budget to Allison McVety's Miming Happiness. I'm intrigued to see where she's taken her poetry since her excellent first book, The Night Trotsky Came to Stay. Other collections are sure to come to my attention over the next few weeks, but these have already made the list.
All in all, an autumn of terrific reading awaits!
Sunday, 20 June 2010
Lyrics in contemporary poetry
Bearing in mind the ever-growing aural presence of lyrics in our daily lives, it's worth noting that more and more poems make use of them.
My current favourites include Matt Merritt's terrific I'm Your Man (from his Happenstance pamphlet, Making The Most Of The Light) with its references to Leonard Cohen, plus Maura Dooley's The Spoils (from Kissing A Bone), in which she invokes the singers and songs on the records that are being divided up by a separating couple.
As for myself, I've even alluded to a cheesy Paul Young song in a poem that might well find its way into my pamphlet. Dangerous territory indeed!
My current favourites include Matt Merritt's terrific I'm Your Man (from his Happenstance pamphlet, Making The Most Of The Light) with its references to Leonard Cohen, plus Maura Dooley's The Spoils (from Kissing A Bone), in which she invokes the singers and songs on the records that are being divided up by a separating couple.
As for myself, I've even alluded to a cheesy Paul Young song in a poem that might well find its way into my pamphlet. Dangerous territory indeed!
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
The toad work
I've been snowed under at work these last couple of weeks, what with visits from American importers and blending this year's Tempranillo, which mainly involves trying to predict how it will taste in 2010. A bit like falling in love with a poem you've just written yet at the same time wondering whether that feeling will last when you pick it up again six months later.
This hectic schedule has meant I've barely had time to read a poem, never mind write one. The toad work plays a key role in my life, but does it help me as a poet? Well, the answer might superficially be a resounding NO in the light of my previous remarks, but I feel that it does on the whole. I've nothing whatsoever against creative writing tutors who find their classes fuel the creative process, but I'm certainly sure that teaching poetry would drum the slippery substance out of me forever!
Reading and writing poetry is an outlet, an escape valve for me, a time that's mine and mine alone. As such, it takes on a precious and untainted status in my life. If I had longer to write, I don't think my focus and concentration would reach the levels they reach within my current constraints.
Alison Brackenbury has been the latest guest poet over at the Poets On Fire Forum these last few days, and she makes a number of interesting remarks on just this subject, prompted by an astute question from Matt Merritt. It's worth comparing and contrasting her views, noting how a writer's needs and motivations change along with their circumstances. Maybe my own feelings on the matter will alter in the coming years!
This hectic schedule has meant I've barely had time to read a poem, never mind write one. The toad work plays a key role in my life, but does it help me as a poet? Well, the answer might superficially be a resounding NO in the light of my previous remarks, but I feel that it does on the whole. I've nothing whatsoever against creative writing tutors who find their classes fuel the creative process, but I'm certainly sure that teaching poetry would drum the slippery substance out of me forever!
Reading and writing poetry is an outlet, an escape valve for me, a time that's mine and mine alone. As such, it takes on a precious and untainted status in my life. If I had longer to write, I don't think my focus and concentration would reach the levels they reach within my current constraints.
Alison Brackenbury has been the latest guest poet over at the Poets On Fire Forum these last few days, and she makes a number of interesting remarks on just this subject, prompted by an astute question from Matt Merritt. It's worth comparing and contrasting her views, noting how a writer's needs and motivations change along with their circumstances. Maybe my own feelings on the matter will alter in the coming years!
Sunday, 26 July 2009
The Forward Shortlist - just one more question
Back from a fortnight with my in-laws in Ubeda, I've seen the Forward Shortlist has come out. Others have already written excellently about it and very much along the lines of my own thoughts - Rob Mackenzie and Matt Merritt among them - but I'd like to ask just one more question.
How many print runs have there been of each of the shortlisted first collections?
Most of them probably haven't got beyond their first printing, unlike Andrew Philip's sadly ignored "The Ambulance Box", which is currently on its third run and still counting. This prize seems more and more disconnected from the pulse of U.K. poetry, just like the big publishers whose miniscule lists it tends to champion.
How many print runs have there been of each of the shortlisted first collections?
Most of them probably haven't got beyond their first printing, unlike Andrew Philip's sadly ignored "The Ambulance Box", which is currently on its third run and still counting. This prize seems more and more disconnected from the pulse of U.K. poetry, just like the big publishers whose miniscule lists it tends to champion.
Saturday, 2 May 2009
Matt Merritt, a strikingly subtle voice
Matt Merritt has published two books of poetry, a pamphlet titled Making the Most of the Light (Happenstance) in 2005, followed by Troy Town (Arrowhead) in 2008, his debut full collection. Accessible yet complex, Merritt is one of the few poets on the U.K. scene to carry off this juggling act. His poems invite the reader in, before generating layers of nuance.
Making the Most of the Light goes way beyond most first pamphlets. Not just a “Best Of…”, it develops a number of themes, often via the use of subtle juxtaposition, as in the collection’s positive title alongside its dedication (For Rebecca Merritt 1968-2004). At the same time, Merritt also shows himself to be adept at great set pieces (Sweet Nothings), excellently executed extended metaphors (Comeback) and the undervalued English art of self-deprecation (Familiar). This pamphlet shows a poet in exciting evolution, capable of striking chords without resorting to facile gestures.
Troy Town displays a number of key differences. Unlike many other poets, Merritt didn’t draw on poems from the previous pamphlet when drawing up his debut full collection. Instead, the reader is offered a clean slate and a book that’s symphonic. In other words, this is a collection which compresses and reflects a couple of years in the poet’s life. Pieces bounce off each other, depend on their neighbours and are strengthened by their strategic positioning in the book. Less immediate than Making the Most of the Light, Troy Town does still invite the reader in, but Merritt’s capacity for creating nuance is building: we have to work just a little more to suss out where we are, what’s going on and what might hit us on the next line. Of course, his skill is always teasing away in the background, less blatant than before, but reminding us that our efforts will be rewarded.
Matt Merritt is a poet to watch over the coming years. His voice, already striking, will surely mature even further. I just hope it reaches the wider readership that it deserves.
Making the Most of the Light goes way beyond most first pamphlets. Not just a “Best Of…”, it develops a number of themes, often via the use of subtle juxtaposition, as in the collection’s positive title alongside its dedication (For Rebecca Merritt 1968-2004). At the same time, Merritt also shows himself to be adept at great set pieces (Sweet Nothings), excellently executed extended metaphors (Comeback) and the undervalued English art of self-deprecation (Familiar). This pamphlet shows a poet in exciting evolution, capable of striking chords without resorting to facile gestures.
Troy Town displays a number of key differences. Unlike many other poets, Merritt didn’t draw on poems from the previous pamphlet when drawing up his debut full collection. Instead, the reader is offered a clean slate and a book that’s symphonic. In other words, this is a collection which compresses and reflects a couple of years in the poet’s life. Pieces bounce off each other, depend on their neighbours and are strengthened by their strategic positioning in the book. Less immediate than Making the Most of the Light, Troy Town does still invite the reader in, but Merritt’s capacity for creating nuance is building: we have to work just a little more to suss out where we are, what’s going on and what might hit us on the next line. Of course, his skill is always teasing away in the background, less blatant than before, but reminding us that our efforts will be rewarded.
Matt Merritt is a poet to watch over the coming years. His voice, already striking, will surely mature even further. I just hope it reaches the wider readership that it deserves.
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