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Wednesday, April 05, 2017
Tuesday, April 04, 2017
Union River by Paul Marion
Union River by Paul Marion. ( Bootstrap Press)
Review by
Kate Hanson Foster
Kate Hanson Foster
Paul Marion writes, “To understand America, a good place to start
is where you are.” A true “Poet of Place,” Marion’s Union River is a collection
of writing that ranges from prose poems, to micro essays, to lyrical insights—all
densely packed with the simple act of existing. Readers embark on a road trip
where the concept of “America” becomes more than a country, a city, or spot on
a map, but a place for the speaker to dramatize the state of consciousness and
recognize the art of human life. In “Colorado” Marion writes, “I’m here but not
grounded—a fresh context, Mid-continent, with only a map for proof.” Marion is
a constant observer gleaning and communicating knowledge through the eye—giving
us a verbal still life of images that comprehends the essence of place and
one’s role within it.
“Poetry”, Marion writes, is more like knitting than people
realize.” And perhaps that is why the various shifts and transitions in form
feel so natural and almost essential when getting down to the bare essence of
living. Union River is not a straight-line tour from place to place, not a
haunting of the past, but a space in which Marion tries to understand
experience in relevant detail, where “Motion is habit, the body moves by
heart.” (“Kansas City Stars”)
A constant, dedicated observer, Marion’s writing explores the nature of perception, but does so unequivocally, and mostly without semantic figures such as metaphors or visual symbolic imagery. As a result many poems feel not of construct of the human mind, but instead subtle snapshots that carry their own unique poetic reverie.
In
suburban kitchens and dens
Beautiful
Californians,
Up
from dinner tables and television,
Open
windows on Robin Hood Drive
To
hear pool filters hum
And
watch Mt. Diablo absorb the red sun.
(“Blood Alley, Fat
City”)
In any area, one’s location
is not a choice, but a place simply handed down through human chain of
circumstance. So when Marion shifts focus to the history of Lowell,
Massachusetts and his own family roots the writing is rich in fact and honest
in memory and history is juxtaposed with basic life values. In “Cut From
American Cloth,” Marion delves deep into the city of Lowell’s many
transformations from colonial settlement, through the time of Jack Kerouac, to
renovations of buildings and infrastructure including the backstory of Marion’s
own home on 44 Highland Avenue.
“On mornings when I circle the track at
the bottom of the Common’s green bowl, I scan a roster of names tied to the
ridgeline of buildings…These names are entwined in history like the signature
grapevines of the neighborhood, hundreds of them planted through the decades by
Portuguese immigrants—green signs marking the presence of people who turn open
space around their modest homes into miniature farms along the narrow, hilly
ways. In the right season, waiting a minute before starting their cars for the
drive to work, my neighbors, gardeners like Joe Veiga and Natalie Silva, hear
the larks and the locomotive pulling toward Boston.”
Like “trees
releasing their inner rings” we are told stories through social, historical,
and personal observations. We are given anecdotes of Marion’s childhood and
French Canadian ancestry. We are told tales of war between the settlers and the
natives. Homage is paid to local heroes who have passed such as Paul Tongas, “…gone to the
air, gone to the sun, gone to the waters, gone to the ground.” (“Tsongas
Steel”)
What makes Union River so
captivating is Marion’s ability to navigate so smoothly within one’s own
microcosm while also asking questions about the larger world and our place
within a vast universe. In “Black Hole
Paycheck” he writes, “A hot-gas halo loops the Milky Way, smoke from a vast erupted star. This
place has been exploding for eons. Will the Kepler spacecraft find another
planet that’s just right? Meanwhile, inside our small worlds “People pass away
and the trees grow taller, but the song on the wire looks like the same bird.”
A question seems to linger as the fabric of Union River comes together—Can we
enter into things? Unite with the whole and understand our essence? People can
only understand their environment as much as they experience it with their
senses, and yet Marion dares to go deeper, peeling away layers of living down
to the “atoms in our bodies…engulfed in crumbs of light.”
In
Union River, place is more than just a backdrop but the music in our heads, a
sanctuary and a point of meditation, or perhaps best described by Marion as “a
wide open space to make a verb out of America.” But what does it mean to
America? Or to have America’d? What comes out of these locations where we are
forced to dwell? Perhaps the mystery of this lingering question is what makes
Paul Marion’s diverse work in Union River so powerful and memorable.
....
Paul Marion is the author of several poetry collections including What Is the City? (2006) and editor of Jack Kerouac's early writings, Atop an Underwood (1999). His work has appeared in The Massachusetts Review, Slate, Christian Science Monitor, Yankee, and others. He lives in Lowell, Mass.