‘The Deal’ by Annie Fisher

May 26, 2020

Four years ago this blog enthusiastically reviewed Infinite in All Perfections by Snakeskin poet Annie Fisher. The Deal, her follow-up pamphlet, also published by Happenstance, is even better.

Typically, Annie’s are poems that contain lives; sometimes content that might fill a whole novel is compressed into a few lines. The father-daughter relationship in ‘Perhaps’, for example, or the childhood of ‘In Hiding’.

Annie Fisher is drawn to writing about people whose lives are unsatisfactory, like the anorexic girl of ‘Ghost’:

She watches
as her shadow on the ground
grows more obese
with every passing hour.

Or the man whose whole life is a catalogue of disappointments:

Let-downs ambushed him throughout his life –
the taste of fresh-perked coffee; aubergines;
live albums; picnics; Camembert; his wife.

Several poems are about childhood: some, I, think, about her own childhood, and her relationship with her father. ‘His Face in my Mirror’ was in Snakeskin a few years ago:

The little lazy eye he gave to me
Winks back unmistakably.
Try all you like, it seems to say
You can’t escape your DNA.

For me, the sign of a good poetry book is that when reviewing it I want to keep on quoting and quoting. That’s the case with The Deal. The language is so clear, and yet so rich, and a few lines can suggest a world of implications.

But I’ll stop now, and just tell you to do yourself a favour and buy a copy. The title poem is especially beautiful.

You can order The Deal at: https://www.happenstancepress.com/index.php/shop/product/47801-the-deal-%E2%88%92-annie-fisher


The Old Man Reads a Review of Recent Poetry Books

May 25, 2020

This Guardian critic does not give much cred
To poets who are male and white and dead.

Which leaves me feeling very slightly wan,
Since I am white and male, and getting on.


The poets identified

April 21, 2020

Sharon Phillips has kindly sent me this key to identifying those promising young poets of 1971 pictured on the book cover featured in the previous post:

Here’s the cover again:

Judging by the responses, both on the blog and in private emails, we all did pretty poorly at identifying them.

I spotted Heaney, of course, and Tony Harrison and Michael Longley. I was also right about Douglas Dunn and Ian Hamilton, and made a guess at Hugo Williams. I really should have got Brian Patten, and probably Peter Dale. Several others I made wildly wrong guesses about.

The picture that surprises me is Jon Stallworthy. Not only was he a good poet, but I met him, memorably. In 2010 I was fortunate indeed that he was the external examiner for my Ph.D. The Ph.D. viva can be a formidable process, but I thoroughly enjoyed mine. Jon Stallworthy asked some searching questions, but showed an enthusiastic interest in my answers, and shared his own insights into the matters I had investigated (The Representation of the Soldier in Great War Prose Literature, 1914-1930). Of course, when I met him, it was thirty-nine years after that picture was taken for the cover of the 1974 book, and he had changed considerably.

And now it’s forty-nine years since the book was published, and just to see the cover raises all sorts of questions (quite apart from the question raised in Sharon’s poem, about the apparent scarcity of women poets at that time). There are questions about time, and fame, and success, and the fashions in verse. Some of those young poets of 1974 are now revered; others are forgotten. Several probably left poetry and went on to other careers. Too many of them have died.

And that’s the way it goes.


The Young British Poets

April 1, 2020

In April Snakeskin, Sharon Phillips has rather a good poem (‘Looking Good’) which references a seventies book, The Young British Poets, edited by Jeremy Robson.

Here is a scan of the book’s cover. I wonder how many of the poets readers can recognise. I think I score half a dozen definites, plus a couple of possibles.

No prizes – but how many can you identify?


Poetry in a Plague Year

March 12, 2020

As the unpleasant Covid-19 virus spreads, Snakeskin has been sent a pair of poems commenting on it. We thought we’d share them with you.

From America, Laura Johnson has sent us this Bop (I’ll explain what a Bop is later):

Bop: Crazy

An unknown illness from the distant East
crawls across our unsuspecting globe,
something like a cold virus, at least
like the very worst gunky-lung sort of cold,
somewhat like the flu we already know
though Trump’s in trouble for saying so.

The coronavirus is making us crazy.

Read the rest of this entry »

More poetry

November 28, 2019

Bruce Bentzman, Snakeskin’s roving reporter and noter of curiosities, saw and snapped this view in Swansea, of a poster proclaiming a great truth.

Read the rest of this entry »

So many! So short! So good

November 1, 2019

The editorial inbox for November Snakeskin has been the fullest in the magazine’s history. There was a cornucopia of short verse to choose from.

This made the task of editing the hardest it’s ever been. From the hundreds of poems submitted, there were a very large number with merit, a solid phalanx of the worthy. How to choose?

I had started with the idea that I would present an issue with just twenty poems. That idea went by the board. A lot more squeezed in, and there are still poems that I regret not using.

Were the poems I chose ‘the best’? That’s always a bit subjective. They were the ones that struck a chord with me. Many because of what they were saying, some because of their use of words or their use of form. Some because they were funny.

Many thanks to everyone who sent us poems. I’ll try to write a note to all who offered poems, but it’s going to take a while.

Meanwhile – enjoy the issue.

(By the way, the next two Snakeskins will be standard issues. Any length, any subject, any style. Send your poems to the usual address.)


Wrappers

October 21, 2019

There has recently been something of a craze, on Instagram and elsewhere, for wrapper rhymes – that is, short poem written on the wrappers of sweets and other food.

It began , apparently, with the discovery that Ted Hughes, a fan of Tunnock’s Caramel Wafers, had taken to writing short pieces in praise of them on the wrappers.

To have swallowed a crocodile
Would make anybody smile

But to swallow a Caramel Wafer
is safer

Someone who has taken to the craze with gusto is Helena Nelson. I’ve just received Branded, a nicely published pamphlet, containing over thirty of the pieces she has written on wrappers. She must have spent a fortune on confectionery, it strikes me – but then, I reflect, money spent on chocolate is rarely money wasted.

Read the rest of this entry »

October 2019

October 13, 2019

I scan the faces on the train.
Did she vote Leave? Was he Remain?
But each one’s in a private world,
And gives no hint what thoughts are curled
And dreaming darkly in their brains.
British people packed in trains
Will by instinct always take
Some pains to make their masks opaque.
That grumpy-looking man for sure
Seems a Leaver caricature,
Whilst she there with the hardback book
Has maybe a Remainer look.
Or maybe doesn’t – I can not
Do more than guess who voted what.
Nor can I know what made them choose,
And how far they’re impelled by views
Perhaps known to themselves alone
And incoherent as my own.

Read the rest of this entry »

Short poems for November

October 10, 2019

November Snakeskin will be a Short Poems special issue. Any subject, any style – but nothing over nine lines.

Send your minuscule efforts to editor@snakeskin.org.uk