LUCAPACIJÜRGENGHEBREZGIABIHER: THE FINE LINE Chanticleer Press 6/1 Jamaica Mews Edinburgh EH3 6HN UK £3.33 Web design by This page last updated: 11th December 2007. |
LUCAPACIJÜRGENGHEBREZGIABIHER: THE FINE LINE | |
At face value the skin over London is too tight the face lift of success too successful (probably rep-car replaces Bowler) too deep yet the lines in the faces of the poorFragmentary, impressionistic portraits of life in London, tinged with critical social commentary, and with the sadness and loneliness of those who live on the edge. Many of the poems are untitled, and Lucapacijürgenhebrezgiabiher makes use of visual effects, including line drawings and different fonts, in the manner of early twentieth century French poets, such as Apollonaire (unfortunately not reproducible in this review). I was also reminded of Kenneth Patchen, and I would guess that Lucapacijürgenhebrezgiabiher is a reader of Blake, Eliot and Pound. He quotes Dante: "Tra la perduta gente" (Among the lost people). The city of London in these poems is both timeless and very much of today. He answers the question WHAT'S BEAUTY?: Eating space and tar Following the road — scar Wounding the city The burning rail tracks Sparkling into another Dimension where things Matter That bleached poster Stuck at the petrol pump VISIT JAMAICA Dwindling morning dream Visit......visit JamaicaThe success of some has always come at a price for others. Lucapacijürgenhebrezgiabiher makes his point in a manner which is playful and aphoristic: London skull heading a Europe skeleton oh what a swish reaper (probably with a Bowler hat) a sort of royal dawdler in Hide&Park— from the untitled poem quoted at the start of this reivew — There is a kind of controlled rage and sadness. From the same poem: assets assets assets assets assets assets assets assets assets assets assets assets worth some wars and flesh to be rubbished away beauty to be sold out needs streamlined into one-way systemSome of the poems take the form of small prayers. There is a yearning for a different Albion, where not only the fool can make it.At their best, the poems have a hypnotic, haunting quality. And they are all much more readable and pronounceable than the author's name. Not all the writing in this collection will appeal, but if the lines quoted above say something to you, it's worthwhile getting hold of a copy of this book. | ||
reviewer: Ian Seed. |