This blog consists of reviews, interviews, news, etc...from the world of the Boston area small press/ poetry scene and beyond. Regular contributors are reviewers: Dennis Daly, Michael Todd Steffen, David Miller, Lee Varon, Timothy Gager,Lawrence Kessenich, Lo Galluccio, Zvi Sesling, Kirk Etherton, Tom Miller, Karen Klein, and others. Founder Doug Holder: dougholder@post.harvard.edu. * B A S P P S is listed in the New Pages Index of Alternative Literary Blogs.
Pages
▼
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
UNION RIVER: POEMS and SKETCHES by Paul Marion
UNION RIVER: POEMS and SKETCHES by Paul
Marion
Review by Doug Holder
Paul Marion uses a Walt Whitman quote
to begin his collection of poems and sketches “Union River..."The quote goes, “
The United States themselves are the greatest poem.” And like
Whitman, Marion takes in everything. He listens closely to his
French- Canadian relatives talk with their rapid fire “Canadian,
American-Franglais French” cadence, as they sat around a table
discussing old Lowell, MA., with its enclaves of “Little Canada”,
and “Centraville,” its tenements, and its teeming life on the
canal and the river. He remembers the marginal men and women—the
people we often blind ourselves to. He notices the old, gone- to-
seed buildings with their dirty layers of history and meaning. He
takes in our country—the plasma night skies of the West, he mixes
Balanchine with Muddy Waters; he paints it all with his artful choice
of words.
Marion is a native
of Lowell, MA. He has written extensively about the city, and has
been active in its development. He is the author of a number of
collections and books, and he edited “Atop an Underwood: Early
Stories and Other Writings by Jack Kerouac." Marion feels Lowell is as
good as place as any to understand America. In his essay from the
collection, “Cut from American Cloth” he writes of the city—once
know for its manufacturing of textiles, as a place that produced the
“stuff of America itself; ideas and merchandise, entrepreneurs and
generals, politicians and artists, religious leaders and labor
champions... and a multitude of citizens from immigrants, refugees,
and migrants who crowded its streets.” Of the many interesting
points that Marion makes, and of particular interest to me (since my
late father was an advertising man of Mad Men vintage) was the role of
Lowell in shaping advertising through its patent medicine industry.
Marion points out that pill making and
bottling plants were combining with on-line printing shops. J.C. Ayer
& Company published promotional material, and according to Marion
the company published the “ American Almanac” that had a print
run in the millions. In fact when we order a “tonic” today—
that dates back to a time when a hit of Sarsaparilla could cure what
ails you.
There is an ample
supply of poetry in this collection. The poetry for the most part is
straight forward, evocative, non-experimental—full of imagery and
“things” that make it often quite delectable.
One of a number of
poems that stood out for me was “Steel Rain.” This poem depicts a
scene right from a nocturnal Lowell, where the mills, the canal, are
transformed into a painting of dark beauty:
One a long
street
By the black canal
There's a man alone
At the railing,
counting
The leaves in the
flow,
Watching a slice of
moon
Above housing blocks
Drenched by a
shower,
The roofs all washed
and
Soaked by steel
rain.
Marion gets the
expansiveness, the inclusiveness, the diversity, the eclecticism, and
the influence of our country, and he encapsulates it in this poem
that combine the art of the blues singer Muddy Waters, with the
highbrow Russian ballet master, George Balanchine. Here is an excerpt
from the poem “Mississippi Delta Blues, Ballets Russes,” where
America, its art and culture, shows its face in even the most far flung places,
America's all
over the map, its mix a staple crop.
Muddy Waters
pirouettes on steam guitar, spreads the blues on canvas.
He's a rolling stone
on the bayou, a boatman on the Volga.
There is a French
Quarter balalaika, there's a jazz master in Red Square
There's a George
Balanchine in a golden cowboy suit.
Marion's book of
poetry will make you take a harder look at your own city, the
landscape, the ghost tenements, the people—and you will perhaps
rediscover America yet again.