Friday, April 05, 2013

New Ibbetson Street Press Poetry Release: Flying Cats (actually swooping) by Dan Sklar

  Dan Sklar Professor of Creative Writing at Endicott College has a new collection of poetry forthcoming:

                                                 Flying Cats  ( actually swooping)

                                                     ADVANCED PRAISE!

The refreshing thing about Sklar’s poetry is that it’s not that  carefully worked-over, avant-garde, conundrum, riddle-twisted work that is less interested in getting across ideas and emotions than puzzling and impressing the reader. Sklar is Mr. Tell-It-As-It-Is. Which he himself is very aware of: My poems/do not win/poetry awards/because/they re/not poems/at all.

Which is not to say that they don’t move, touch you, and communicate. By getting rid of all the technique games and getting to the human heart of things, Sklar is one of the most successful communicators around. His topics include the inner Thoreau, horses, funerals, war, bicycles, rain, aging, sex, opera, canoes (and the Iroquois), truck accidents....and there’s not a poem, story, or play in this book that you can stop reading once you’ve read the first line. Unreadable poets should take a course in Sklar, get readable, read this book.

—Hugh Fox, Founding editor of the Pushcart Prize

Fans of European 19th century verse, thick with symbolism and multi-syllabic, will find little to love in Dan Sklar’s work. Sklar’s poetry could be characterized as American Primitive, clean and bracing as creek water. Like Whitman, Sklar celebrates the mystery and profundity of the everyday. This is “guy” poetry, muscularly chronicling the days and to-do list of the contemporary American male, helplessly and joyfully committed to the challenges of raising a houseful of boys, teaching sleepy-eyed college students, and handling the ignominies of manuscript rejection letters. Sklar’s poems tumble and sing with enormously universal appeal.

—Lisa Beatman, Author of Manufacturing America

I say to the woman tonight out of the blue: “You know what I liked about that guy yesterday? He didn’t appear at all jealous or even slightly worried I might be better than him (whatever that means)… and in front of his students.” Dan, you’re a person who is self-assured and in a very good, rare and unpretentious way.

-- G. Todd Slone—The American Dissident

Ibbetson St. Press

25 School St.

Somerville, Mass.


Wednesday, April 03, 2013

Salem in Séance Poems by Susana H. Case

Salem in Séance

Poems by Susana H. Case

WordTech Editions

ISBN: 9781625490025

93 Pages

Review by Dennis Daly

Witches (i.e. those who have signed the devil’s book) cannot get through the Lord’s Prayer without stumbling, or recite the Ten Commandments in order and intact. So, for a stutterer like me, saying "h-h-h-hallowed be thy name" in the greater Salem of 1692 could be the onset of some serious judicial trouble. And, indeed, all sorts of spasmodic tics, flaws and quirks convinced that pent up joyless citizenry that Satan’s diabolical plan to destroy the Puritan Church had neared its triumphal conclusion.

Susana H. Case uses her poetic rendition of these happenings to give voice to some of the twenty executed women and men of those times and also to describe the complicated motivations of the accusers and political backdrop involved in the progression of this hysteria. She also engages her subjects with direct comments creating snippets of dialog in many of her poems. This unusual convention is not always successful but when it is it adds mightily to the poem’s power.

In her poem Sarah Good Case summons the voice of one poor soul going through one hell of a midlife crises. Here is part of Sarah’s story,

…I know

the villagers cannot abide me: my poverty,


the turbulence,

curses I admit

I have made upon their livestock.

[You make excuses for them!]

But I must, I am wrecked

since the loss of inheritance

rights, my downhill slide,

know the ruin upon me

makes my eyes look hollowed out,

more like seventy than thirty-eight.

Even my four-year-old

gives evidence against me. And my husband,

William, affirms if I am not already a witch,

I soon will be one…

Yes, her husband William must have been one understanding son-of a bitch.

Another one of the accused does better in the husband department. Elizabeth Cary, the title character of a more uplifting poem in Case’s collection, puts it this way,

though he has never broken the law

before, Nathaniel is influential

enoughmariner and merchantto arrange

my escape from the eight pounds

of weight, from what would otherwise

be my fate. New York, bless

Governor Fletcher, no friend

of Massachusetts (the two governors

almost slug it out on Martha’s vineyard),

provides asylum. My husband

loves me. The others conspire to get what

we have, divide it among themselves.

For prison keepers who live in penury, and

for those like my Nathaniel

rich enough to assure salvation, praise

the Lord for the glory of bribery.

The poet gets a number of things right. The victims of the Salem Witch Trials are not model human beings. They are earthy country folk with their own fears and shortcomings. Case’s portrayal of four year old Dorcas Good, in the poem of that same name, by her mother, Sarah Good, is riveting. Sarah explains,

…My Dorcas,

four years old, a fluttering

little bird whom I suckled

not so long ago, I admit

is a disordered child. They searched

her too, found a nipple on her finger

which could nourish a snake. If my salvation

after death depends

upon her goodness, I am ruined.

This child, her ways wicked and strange;

All is fury, all is pain.

Case in her poem Without Powerful friends portrays the case of Bridget Bishop, who, among other things, was accused of killing her husband with the use of a voodoo doll. After the first stanza Case interjects an account of Samuel Shattuck’s testimony against Bishop. Shattuck complains that in 1680 Bishop had bewitched his eldest child. This section works quite well. Later on in the same poem Case’s updated language and comments work less well. Bishop speaks,

…If I zoomed three hundred

years into the future, those about me

would still wish me hanged.

[It’s true, it happens every summer

now in front of tourists]

So there it is. I adore my big hats,

taverns, my old houseunlicensed

place of amber-colored cider and play

my play at shuffleboard,

have no reason for shame

from that forbidden game.

[I’d bet you’d like a cigarette.]

The section of the book called Accusations includes the poem Cursed Children. Case gives voice to Betty Parris, the nine year old daughter of Reverend Samuel Parris. Here the poet’s interjected comments are biting and effective. The poem begins,

…Household chores are difficult

for me. [You’re only nine, Betty Parris!]

I am sickly, do not know

why I should be sickly. Unexplained

sickness sticks to mother.

[Take a closer look at your father.]

I do not know what you mean.

In the poem Master Witch Case recounts the execution of George Burroughs. Burroughs, a former minister himself, does the unthinkable. At the hanging he recites the Lord’s Prayer without a hitch. What to do? Enter the helpful Cotton Mather. The poet concluding the piece explains,

The crowd grows apprehensive.

Everyone knows what a witch must do

is make a mistake.

Then for those unsettled

in the crowd, Cotton Mather reminds them

the hanging must proceed;

George Burroughs has been convicted

by a skillful and temperate jury

(and perhaps he is a Baptist).

Sad, corroded village.

Such was the darkness of the day

These perceptive and passionate poems by Susana Case are not only well worth the read but a good way to give sentient voice to historical injustice. And poets certainly have a plethora of that raw material.