The Poet as Minotaur In His Post-Catastrophic Citadel ; The
Non Herein-
By Michael Mc Aloran.
Published Lapwing Publications, Belfast, 2012.
Michael Mc Aloran's (third) collection of poems , The Non Herein- is published by Lapwing Publications, Belfast. Lapwing Publications will be familiar to readers of contemporary Irish poets, Helen Soraghan-Dwyer, Desmond O Grady and Eamon Lynskey. Michael Mc Aloran's work has appeared in The Recusant, The Medulla Review, Heavy Bear, Ygdrasil, Muse, A New Ulster, and other literary Journals. Mc Aloran owns the Bone Orchard Poetry blogzine which hosts an eclectic list of contemporary poets whose works of poetry and flash-fiction are rolled out on a regular basis.
The Non Herein- is a complete book of some fifty nine stand alone poems which exhibit
an inter-relatedness in theme, a poetry of the body. More distinctly
a poetry of the skeletal system, of the architecture that maintains
the body.
There is a body hidden beneath and within The Non Herein- . It is, or more properly, was, a huge biological colossus or entity,
and it has been left out to the elements. Or part of it has been left
out, vultured. Its revealed head, teeth, death-grin and spinal column
hint at what the poet guards in his broken citadel. The reader is simultaneously
invited to ponder the catastrophic events that underpin the book and
told 'this
far and no further' by Mc Aloran.
I sensed a vastness of hidden architecture below Mc Aloran's tenacious
use of colour, and in his use of symbol in the poem/s. Colours are identifiable
as amber, molasses, tumour smoke, and black. The mythos of the once-living
entity pervades the atmosphere of The Non Herein-. The most pervasive symbols in this book are of the skull (decapitated
and separated from the hidden body), the teeth, the eye and the spinal-column,
Of The Traces Of - (10)
'Ashes ashen
traceless
Of the locked
till wind
Speech ever
Slivers
of
Trace of
the without
Knocking
upon
(Never entering)
Ever the
traces of it '
Whilst Mc
Aloran consistently attempts to reduce the size of the colossus hidden
beneath and uniting the poems of The Non Herein- , he never quite suceeds in his venture. The reader gets to wonder
at the catastrophe that has led the poet to the speaking of it,
Till Headless Asking - (18)
'The Shadow of
Ice of a pyre's silence
Asked of
The meat of it '
What has
been left out are parts of an organism that is bleaching in the sun,
or had been stripped by hoar-frost. The stripped body left out is near
the pyre. We are left in no doubt that the pyre isn't sacred,
Doused - (15)
'Hollow
In a flame of naught
Hissing upwardly
vacancy of none
Embers embers
Doused by final piss '
Mc Aloran's
vigil is maintained in order to decipher the language which the necropolis
offers him. This is evident in his absolute control of symbol throughout
the book, mentioned already in his use of colour, image, and even weather,
where rain is monsoon /deluge and where the elements are merely functional
symbols without physical heat.
Silently (All
The...) - (22)
' The bone
ash of
Listless
as the sky unlimbered
Lingering
dice of loss
Breaking
upon the shore's
Atrophy
Silently
all the bloody while of it '
In The Non Herein- Mc Aloran's vistas
are stripped-down to bare elements. They are concomitantly built up
from the selfsame elements to suggest a limbo or no-place. Humour maybe subdued, ebbing-away, or indeed humble but it is always
there. Here is a victory-song for life pushing up through human-remains,
detrius, stink and bone.
The Night's
Claim- (41)
'Smooth
yes the stone of it
Gathering
no moss
Yet ever
The shit
As the night's
claim exhales
Rats in
a barrel
Blood-shot
silences '
The actual
colossus appears in Circumference Of - (pp 54-55)
'Until again
Carousel of shadow
Blind fingers
Dead searching of the course
Night and limb
Gathered to the pulse
Stricken of
Echoing out of one dead hand unto a vacant sky
Absence of the one
Dreaming all the while
Yet never of the sleep of it '
The skull,
bone, the eye-socket, the open hand, and the spinal column form this
book's overt symbolism. Mc Aloran's landscapes are sometimes Dali-esque
backdrops for the outplay of the drama of loss, upon which straggled
flowers appear then disappear as quickly as a candle-flame caught in
a breeze. The machine in which the poet is caught is huge, a huge animalesque
architecture, a tracery of deadened nerve-endings and frozen capilliaries.
But it once lived.
Mc Aloran
narrates this once-living necropolis with a curious tenderness that
sometimes emerges momentarily but is often quelled and left unexplored.
Whilst Mc Aloran has mastered the symbols which he uses so effectively
to both camofluage and decipher the unnamed catastrophe which he has
survived, he has created a prison of infinite proportion which has reduced
things to symbols
of.
Hence he becomes the guardian of the images that he allows himself to
reveal to the reader who must discern the map that s/he is offered in
this book.
The geography of The Non Herein- is phosphorescent, over-exposed, a lansdcape of shapes, tongues,
lungs, bleached wood, stone, and the knives of the butcher. Flowers
are momentary and related to organs, organs are momentary and not related
to human-life, but to human-function. This is not however a utilitarianism
in his vision, but a sheer mastery of image which has a vertiginous
effect on the reader.
Yet, within this post-apocalyptic Dreamtime there is a super-structure, a very definite exso-skeleton of mute
and disbelieving support. The poems do not hang straggled and bone-whitened
like rags in the bleaching sun. Mc Aloran's use of words to define and
subsequently defy the bleakness of his vision are assured, neat and
despite possibly his best intention warming, warm.
Here may be unnameable catastrophes just happened, survived, but the
poet will sift through it all and have his triumph. His engagement is
with a burned and ruined corpse left out to dry and fossilize with its
rag-remnant of torn flesh and chilled bone, an empty jaw-bone, a leaving
from a physical life.
It is available to purchase here
It is available to purchase here
Reverse symmetry
ReplyDeletehttp://open.salon.com/blog/poethead/2013/01/14/the_non_herein-_by_michael_mc_aloran