Literary reviews by Tim Love.
Warning: Rather than reviews, these are often notes in preparation for reviews that were never finished, or pleas for help with understanding pieces. See Litref Reviews - a rationale for details.
Showing posts with label Tim Cunningham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tim Cunningham. Show all posts

Wednesday, 28 February 2024

"Don Marcelino's Daughter" by Tim Cunningham (Peterloo, 2001)

Poems from Ambit, Poetry Ireland Review, TLS, etc.

I don't feel that they're over my head, but I think I'm missing something because too many of the poems seem so-so - a shame because the book's not lacking in quotable phrases, or original ideas for poems. One problem I have is that pieces like "Mrs Kirby" and "Errata (about days 8 to 13 of creation - a neat idea) are prose in all but format, and fairly ordinary prose at that, compared to Flash nowadays. I liked "Pebbles" and a few of the other shorter pieces. Longer pieces can sag - "The Living Room" shows things reverting to their origins, some more obvious examples (e.g. "Books and bookcases/ Revert to trees/ And the glass that I held/ In the palm of my hand/ Crumbles to grains/ Of timeless sand") filling more space than interesting ones like - "when/ Piano keys release again their music to the world/ I know that I will hear only the trumpeting/ Herds as they charge behind ivory spears". And there are longer poems like "Viking" (24 lines) that don't work at all for me.

Rhyme's used sparingly. "Quartet" has a sextet for each family member, then ends with a rhyming quatrain - "Sometimes the music stops/ But mostly they accept the score/ And play the harmonies/ That exorcise the demons at the door". Each sextet begins with "Sometimes the music stops". The final line of each sextet rhymes with an earlier line: in the first sextet line 4, then line 2, line 3 and line 4.

'Clintona' ends with "a boy/ Watched the magical designs// Of frost crystals on window/ Panes, intent/ As a geneticist detecting// The chromosome/ In cells that spell,/ At best, a life sentence". I'm not convinced that the analogy is apt but in any case the line-breaks are no help to me. The final line is a pun/double-meaning, something he does in several pieces. In "Flashback" children in Hiroshima play Samuria until "Bad light/ Stopped play". In "Piano Tuner" the blind man, a "keyboard Casanova", is finally envied for "The magical vibration of his wand". At the end of 'Corrections', "Magenta pencils lost their point".