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..."

A poem by Neil Elder

Over the past three weeks, I've been posting a poem by each of the poets who'll be reading at the Rogue Strands event on 28th November (see Facebook page here like always), and this is now the final instalment. I do hope that these varied poems not only provide something of a snapshot of the U.K. scene, but also that they whet your appetite for what promises to be a terrific evening of poetry.

Neil Elder's our man today. His work is characterised by its clarity, understatement, keen observation and subtle juxtapositions that encourage his readers to reach their own conclusions, and this piece is no exception. Details are gradually layered, building up to a terrific ending that reverberates back to the beginning. That's always a sign of a top-notch poem...!

Restructuring

It was obvious he’d gone.

Twenty minutes later he emerged;

a year older (and an inch shorter),

for every minute he’d been before the boss.

Never seen a man so reduced.

For an hour he stood and stared at the car park.

Something had left him;

none of us knew what words to offer his shell.

Then Shivali asked if he’d still sort the Lottery

and Dave wondered if an office would be free.

The following week

hushed conversations stopped

whenever he came into the tea-room.

Might as well have rung a bell.

He ate alone, untouchable.

Then his desk was empty,

though his screensaver still showed

a picture from the Christmas do;

dressed as an elf with Leanne on his knee,

he always liked a laugh.

Emails arrived with the words rationalise,

downturn and downsize.

It was like a damp we couldn’t stop from spreading

and it seeped from his department into ours.

Just now HR Jenny smiled at me;

my appointment's Thursday, half-past three.

(First published in Acumen)

Rogue Strands Poetry Reading

With featured readings from Rory Waterman, Katy Evans-Bush, Ramona Herdman, Rishi Dastidar, Mat Riches and myself, plus support from Robin Houghton, Neil Elder and Clarissa Aykroyd, the second Rogue Strands Poetry Reading is up and running!

It would be a huge understatement to mention I'm chuffed that my co-organiser (Mat Riches) and I should have managed to bring the above-mentioned line-up together. In fact, I'd go as far as claiming we'll provide an excellent snapshot of some of the best poetry around on the U.K. scene when they read at the King and Queen pub in Foley Street, London W1W 6DL on 28th November, where events will kick off at 7.30 p.m..

There's a Facebook page for the reading (see here) where you can keep up with our news, while I'll also be posting a top-notch poem from each of our poets on Rogue Strands as we get nearer the time.

Oh, and Mat Riches has produced this excellent poster. Please feel more than free to share it on social media and help us generate the audience on 28th November that our poets so richly deserve...

Limpid and clear, Neil Elder's The Space Between Us

In his first full collection, The Space Between Us (Cinnamon Press, 2018), Neil Elder has produced poems that are limpid and clear in tone and content. Many readers, poets and critics underestimate the inherent difficulties and risks involved in writing work of such apparent simplicity: any slip and the poet is exposed without any paraphernalia to protect themselves.

As a consequence, there are inevitably a few failures in this book, but they are far outweighed by its many achievements. One of the latter is “Like My Daughter Says”:

“If, like my daughter says,

you are now a million particles

orbiting in space,

may you keep on spinning.

Or else as I look out tonight,

I hope you fall like snow

and settle for a while.”

Elder’s language is unassuming in this poem, and therein lies its strength. There’s no need for him to over-reach himself in his choice of simile (“like snow”), as he therefore encourages the reader to focus on the following line, where “for a while”, seemingly so slight and insubstantial, suddenly charges the whole poem with temporal significance. A less surefooted poet might have attempted an unexpected, jolting comparison so as to obtain their effect, instead of allowing their language to grow organically as in this case.

The most successful poems in The Space Between Us possess an ease and natural ear for sentence structure. They belie the hard work that must have been required to chip away until their choice of words felt inevitable and necessary. Another such example is “In Our Path”:

“There wasn’t anything more we could do –

the kitten noosed by orange wire lay dead

against the works where a team had fixed a leaking pipe.

Before we lay it beneath leaves

in a peaty shallow, you held the body

with the same care you had cradled Daniel

on that morning when everything changed.”

In this instance, Elder deftly layers insignificant details until they take on new meaning, while also holding back certain background information in the last line so as to let the poem open out beyond its ending.

All in all, The Space Between Us represents a strong statement of intent from a poet who’s brave enough to take on simplicity. Neil Elder’s verse offers us an excellent counterpoint to the commonplace usage of linguistic fireworks, and I very much look forward to seeing where he takes it from here.