STILL SHINING: Brian Docherty reflects on the wealth of experience which adds extra polish to Katherine Gallagherâs poetry
Acres of Light
Katherine Gallagher
Arc Publications, 2016
ISBN 978-1-910345-733
ÂŁ9.99
There comes a point in the writing life of any poet (letâs not use the word âcareer), when their (published) work changes, if not develops. As a well-travelled Aussie ex-pat who has lived in Paris and London, Katherine Gallagher has a lifetimeâs experiences to draw on. This bookâs 5 sections take the reader through a selection of these in the often spare and understated style for which her work is known. Anyone seeking the vibrancy and drama of say, Ruth Padel or Pascale Petit should look elsewhere.
In Section 1, we find âElanâ, one of a number of poems set in public parks that occur throughout Gallagherâs work, where the narrator experiences Holland Park in April, while listening as
A boy plays Summertime on a sax,
practises over and over. Now he tries
Scarborough Fair - silky,
The poem finishes
grass grows beneath us: minute blades stir,
flicker - something is happening - a season
emptying into the moment, rinsing clean.
We move on to Chartres in âA Measure of Stillnessâ and âThe Spell of Firefliesâ, a nominalist poem about values and experience, which concludes
still trying to place
the bigger picture - winners and losers
on their dizzying slopes.
Her ghazal, âThe Fireâ works rather well, while âTurnaboutâ records aspects of a writerâs life,
My room is no longer itself,
the carpet an old painting worn
threadbare with being looked at.
This is contrasted with a frankly postcard poem, and âQuotidianâ which uses a line by Mahmoud Darwish, âwe love life wherever we canâ to good effect as a refrain.
Section 2 takes us back to Gallagherâs Australia, with a series of memorial poems for her mother, starting with âI Could Have Been Born in a Taxiâ, an almost Zen-like What was your face before you were born moment. The three poems for her mother focus on specific detail, such as the ring she inherited, described in âRingsâ as
the same gold charm I lost
and found again on Bexhill beach.
Make your own luck, it tells me, as she
wedded to her days, made hers.
âOdysseyâ is another travel poem, which opens âRemembering the lights of a hundred citiesâ, moves through a range of experiences before alighting in London,
wrought iron on pillared backdrops,
the veined streets of a cities heart,
its folklored history, an inheritance.
A more low-key sort of travel is evoked by âRiverboatâ in southwest London, where travellers and couples meditate on
the margins theyâve yet to reach,
voyaging them on beyond boundaries.
âBefore the Stormâ, an ekphrastic piece responding to Sven Richard Berghâs painting Nordic Summer Evening, uses a longer line in a version of William Carlos Williamsâ step down foot; this poem and the ghazal show that Gallagher can give careful consideration to appropriate form without resorting to outmoded ones. A later villanelle is also well handled, as is a more âEnglishâ mode, such as the tightly rhymed quatrains of âA Cautionary Taleâ. This poem finishes
And her with this terrible urge -
what happened to romance:
IVF, post-coital tests, a surge
of last-minute angst, last chance?
Whether this is âafter Betjemanâ , a nod to Stevie Smith (a poet greatly admired by Gallagher) or a comment on why Crouch End, for example, is known as Nappy Valley, can be left for readers to decide for themselves. Her âBeatles Poemâ though, while an enjoyable idea, is less successful for this reader precisely because the raw material is relatively loosely handled. Her haiku sequence works well, as she is well aware of some of the debates on whether English or American âHaikuâ can really achieve the effects available to Japanese speakers and writers. One example here is
inside the robinâs
pure song -
evening walk.
The departure from the conventional 5-7-5 either needs no explanation or could have been relegated to an end note at the back of the book. âThe Dream is the Oceanâ is a more âNew Ageâ type of poem, which achieves a balance between repetition and moving on, in seven couplets, although printed as one stanza.
The dolphin is the dream
The Dream is the ocean.
This move out and back in Section 4 is seen in âLemon Gumsâ (an Australian tree) where we are told
Sometimes you come across lines
of them bordering a road -
dove-grey, satin-barked eucalypts:
trunks that no one has written on,
carved their name on or the date.
This sense of untarnished memories permeates the book, as in âThe Mountainâ an example of a well-crafted villanelle, where
you feel the silence is in love with you,
invites a quietude no one can buy,
in this wild place you dream of coming to.
There are more travel poems, including an âOde to the Boeing 747â; as we have seen, Gallagher is a well-travelled poet, and notions of belonging, exile, and returning recur on her work. This section also features some political commentary, handled with restraint, as in âPhotograph – Mekong Delta, South Vietnam, 1965â dealing with the many photograph or pieces of newsreel footage where women were brutalised and executed in public. A short sequence, âIreland, 1972â, perhaps a nod to Gallagherâs Donegal roots, is written in short, Heaneyesque lines, noting
Artistic hells are free to
let nothing drop
Section 5 features a series of elegies, presumably for family or friends, where âGoing Back to the Farmâ engages with the everyday detail of life on a rural Australian farm, while âSerenity Prayerâ opens
Let it enter your heart,
be the hope of your being.
The bookâs closing poem, âThe Presence of the Treesâ, again set in Australia, shows us
The cemetery sand is newly piled over,
and around is a trail of birds, eucalypts,
native plants - boronia, heath.
The last lines in this poem, and the book, are
I imagine you here, being yourself, striding
beneath a theatre of stars.
What a fine ending for this rewarding book, where Katherine Gallagherâs life-experience has allowed the reader to share part of her journey. You know what Iâm going to say now; go into that bookshop and buy your ticket.
by Michael Bartholomew-Biggs • books, poetry reviews, year 2017 • Tags: books, Brian Docherty, poetry • 0 Comments
STILL SHINING: Brian Docherty reflects on the wealth of experience which adds extra polish to Katherine Gallagherâs poetry
There comes a point in the writing life of any poet (letâs not use the word âcareer), when their (published) work changes, if not develops. As a well-travelled Aussie ex-pat who has lived in Paris and London, Katherine Gallagher has a lifetimeâs experiences to draw on. This bookâs 5 sections take the reader through a selection of these in the often spare and understated style for which her work is known. Anyone seeking the vibrancy and drama of say, Ruth Padel or Pascale Petit should look elsewhere.
In Section 1, we find âElanâ, one of a number of poems set in public parks that occur throughout Gallagherâs work, where the narrator experiences Holland Park in April, while listening as
The poem finishes
We move on to Chartres in âA Measure of Stillnessâ and âThe Spell of Firefliesâ, a nominalist poem about values and experience, which concludes
Her ghazal, âThe Fireâ works rather well, while âTurnaboutâ records aspects of a writerâs life,
This is contrasted with a frankly postcard poem, and âQuotidianâ which uses a line by Mahmoud Darwish, âwe love life wherever we canâ to good effect as a refrain.
Section 2 takes us back to Gallagherâs Australia, with a series of memorial poems for her mother, starting with âI Could Have Been Born in a Taxiâ, an almost Zen-like What was your face before you were born moment. The three poems for her mother focus on specific detail, such as the ring she inherited, described in âRingsâ as
âOdysseyâ is another travel poem, which opens âRemembering the lights of a hundred citiesâ, moves through a range of experiences before alighting in London,
A more low-key sort of travel is evoked by âRiverboatâ in southwest London, where travellers and couples meditate on
âBefore the Stormâ, an ekphrastic piece responding to Sven Richard Berghâs painting Nordic Summer Evening, uses a longer line in a version of William Carlos Williamsâ step down foot; this poem and the ghazal show that Gallagher can give careful consideration to appropriate form without resorting to outmoded ones. A later villanelle is also well handled, as is a more âEnglishâ mode, such as the tightly rhymed quatrains of âA Cautionary Taleâ. This poem finishes
Whether this is âafter Betjemanâ , a nod to Stevie Smith (a poet greatly admired by Gallagher) or a comment on why Crouch End, for example, is known as Nappy Valley, can be left for readers to decide for themselves. Her âBeatles Poemâ though, while an enjoyable idea, is less successful for this reader precisely because the raw material is relatively loosely handled. Her haiku sequence works well, as she is well aware of some of the debates on whether English or American âHaikuâ can really achieve the effects available to Japanese speakers and writers. One example here is
The departure from the conventional 5-7-5 either needs no explanation or could have been relegated to an end note at the back of the book. âThe Dream is the Oceanâ is a more âNew Ageâ type of poem, which achieves a balance between repetition and moving on, in seven couplets, although printed as one stanza.
This move out and back in Section 4 is seen in âLemon Gumsâ (an Australian tree) where we are told
This sense of untarnished memories permeates the book, as in âThe Mountainâ an example of a well-crafted villanelle, where
There are more travel poems, including an âOde to the Boeing 747â; as we have seen, Gallagher is a well-travelled poet, and notions of belonging, exile, and returning recur on her work. This section also features some political commentary, handled with restraint, as in âPhotograph – Mekong Delta, South Vietnam, 1965â dealing with the many photograph or pieces of newsreel footage where women were brutalised and executed in public. A short sequence, âIreland, 1972â, perhaps a nod to Gallagherâs Donegal roots, is written in short, Heaneyesque lines, noting
Section 5 features a series of elegies, presumably for family or friends, where âGoing Back to the Farmâ engages with the everyday detail of life on a rural Australian farm, while âSerenity Prayerâ opens
The bookâs closing poem, âThe Presence of the Treesâ, again set in Australia, shows us
The last lines in this poem, and the book, are
What a fine ending for this rewarding book, where Katherine Gallagherâs life-experience has allowed the reader to share part of her journey. You know what Iâm going to say now; go into that bookshop and buy your ticket.