Merryn Williams discovers that Anne Stewartās poems about bereavement succeed on several levels
The Last Parent
Anne Stewart
Second Light Publications
ISBN: 978-0-9927088-3-2
Ā£9.95.
The last parent is the second to die. Anne Stewart has published a remarkable sequence of thirty poems, focusing on the clearing-up work after her fatherās death, as part of a larger collection. There are some very fine pieces in the first half of the book, about the loneliness of women walking home at night and the emergence of frightening figures from the past. She is conscious āthat the meter must run out of shillings sometimeā (death again), but she can also be wickedly funny, as in āWinter Breakā
Not clearing an unkempt garden
in bright cold February sun
Not shoving round the hoover
till the last crushed crumb is gone
Not delivering that gift-wrapped late-come package
2 foot square by 2 foot 9
nor searching high-shelf hefty hardbacks for synonyms
for āpromises not keptā and āwasted timeā
No fulfilling of early-year ambitions ā gutter-clearing,
window-cleaning ā from the nearly topmost rung
No lacing up that nice new pair of satin-silver trainers
for a satisfying run
No lace-up shoes at all ā¦. and none of those planned workouts ā
biking, cycling, swimming. Just sitting
frantically
calm
figuring out what
can be done
with a heavy-hanging
just-now-broken arm
The title pun works very well and Stewart is good at conveying the situationās dark humour. There is more humour of this kind in the second half of the book, which is mainly about paperwork and administration. Many poets have written about their grief when a parent dies, but this poet canāt allow herself to be overwhelmed by grief as there are too many necessary, dreary, trivial jobs to be done. āBecome Psychoticā demonstrates the point:
At such a time, you must divide yourself
into separate parts.
One part is allowed to feel the loss.
The other must substitute clubs for hearts.
The one is permitted to fall apart.
The other must keep itself intact
and so must initiate divorce ā
it is the other who will take charge,
will have no use for a weaker part.
The weaker part will tug along
on a slackening/tightening string.
The process will run its course.
So, the bereaved daughter keeps busy. She applies for a death certificate, informs distant relatives, organizes the funeral, clears the house of assorted rubbish like āarchaic radios and TVsā, tells the bank heās dead, fills in forms, is depressed by the letters addressed to the deceased person which keep coming in. There is a splendid poem, āRemembering the Cutā, in which she is having a normal conversation with the hairdresser and all the time thinking about her loss. And while all this is going on sheās remembering her motherās earlier death and having disturbing dreams in which her parents reappear. Itās familiar territory, but not described often enough. Iām sure the āLast Parentā sequence will be helpful to others in the same situation, but more important still, it works as poetry.
London Grip Poetry Review – Anne Stewart
April 9, 2019 by Michael Bartholomew-Biggs • books, poetry reviews, year 2019 • Tags: books, Merryn Williams, poetry • 0 Comments
Merryn Williams discovers that Anne Stewartās poems about bereavement succeed on several levels
The last parent is the second to die. Anne Stewart has published a remarkable sequence of thirty poems, focusing on the clearing-up work after her fatherās death, as part of a larger collection. There are some very fine pieces in the first half of the book, about the loneliness of women walking home at night and the emergence of frightening figures from the past. She is conscious āthat the meter must run out of shillings sometimeā (death again), but she can also be wickedly funny, as in āWinter Breakā
The title pun works very well and Stewart is good at conveying the situationās dark humour. There is more humour of this kind in the second half of the book, which is mainly about paperwork and administration. Many poets have written about their grief when a parent dies, but this poet canāt allow herself to be overwhelmed by grief as there are too many necessary, dreary, trivial jobs to be done. āBecome Psychoticā demonstrates the point:
So, the bereaved daughter keeps busy. She applies for a death certificate, informs distant relatives, organizes the funeral, clears the house of assorted rubbish like āarchaic radios and TVsā, tells the bank heās dead, fills in forms, is depressed by the letters addressed to the deceased person which keep coming in. There is a splendid poem, āRemembering the Cutā, in which she is having a normal conversation with the hairdresser and all the time thinking about her loss. And while all this is going on sheās remembering her motherās earlier death and having disturbing dreams in which her parents reappear. Itās familiar territory, but not described often enough. Iām sure the āLast Parentā sequence will be helpful to others in the same situation, but more important still, it works as poetry.