Memo random

I recently reviewed Vanessa Gebbie's Memorandum, poems for the fallen, published by Cultured Llama. I thought it would be memorable to write the review on memos and post to Twitter under the hashtag #Memorandum. I was thrilled to see Cultured Llama have gone to the trouble to write a lovely thank you for my efforts, including "This has to be the most unusual and beautiful review format of any of our books." and this. But just in case you have trouble reading my handwriting, here's a transcript:

 

Memorandum

poems for the fallen

 

Vanesa Gebbie

 

 

 

Reviewed

by

Rachel J Fenton

 

 

 

Memorandum (memo)

from the Latin memorandum

est, "to mention, call to mind,

recount, relate,"

"it must be remembered (that)

a document that helps the memory by recording events or

observations on a topic, such

as may be used in a

business office

 

 

 

The title evokes

Tennyson's requiem

for his friend

Hallam, "In Memoriam".

 

 

 

Like Tennyson's poem,

Memorandum is a

meditation on grief,

mortality and nature

in light of the

man-made.

 

 

 

Cenotaph, the first

poem in the collection,

pays respects to its

literary heritage as it

sets down its themes.

 

 

 

"Under duress, " the poem

begins the process of

dissolving the elements of a

monument as though

describing the erosion of

crustaceans on the sea bed.

But these are "Veteran shells"

and the reader is presented with an

understated question about

the nature of war.

 

 

 

With Gebbie's guidance, the

reader undertakes an

imaginative journey into

the fabric of the memorial

itself. So subtle is the

transaction that the

realisation it has taken

place is as startling as

discovering the sea bed is

man-made.

 

 

 

There's irony with this act

of disarmament. It's only

with "Transfiguration" the

reader becomes certain

they are where their

guide intended:

"accompaniment to

serious alchemy".

 

 

 

Then it's "us" in "The

Soldier's ragged choir,

St Pancras New Church",

and here Gebbie's short

story apprenticeship becomes

evident in the colloquial

narrative via which she

demonstrated her aptitude

for ventriloquism.

 

 

 

From St Pancras to

Euston Station, these

poems are crafted like

inter-linked short stories

and could feel contrived

were it not for the

obvious emotional investment

the author has with her

subject matter, and the very

real people who inhabit it.

 

 

 

Gebbie's sincerity is

palpable in the care

with which she details

the employees of

Waterloo Station, Smithfield

Market's meat porter, and

"The Quarryman and the

Fusilier" - ordinary people

paid heroes' respect.

 

 

 

It's in the second section

of the collection where

Gebbie's mimicry comes

into its own. There's

no longer the feeling

of participation here

but witness.

 

 

 

"Suppose / Alf Norman

wasn't really here?"

(Alf Norman

Grangetown Memorial, Cardiff

p19)

But he was. And the

reader is and must be.

This is necessary

remembering.

 

 

 

Of the sixteen poems in "Other

Memorials" "Remembrance,

Sunday" stands out with

devastating singularity. Perhaps

it's an effect of "something

I wrote in blue biro", the

unpretentiousness of the fact -

for this is fact as opposed to

feigned inhabitation. Gebbie is

not imagining, she is

remembering her father, all

the more poignant as his own

long goodbye is revealed,

eleven poems in.

 

 

 

The final section of the

collection takes the reader

through "Western Front

Battlefields" and is more

in keeping with the war

poetry many readers may

be familiar with: Ivor

Gurney and Siegfried

Sassoon spring to mind.

 

 

 

A number of these poems

were previously published

in The Half-Life of Fathers

(Pighog Press) and are

familiar to this reviewer,

though it is a testament

to the richness of Gebbie's

writing that their placement

here channels new

readings.

 

 

 

It is in this final section

that the theme of cost

that has been steadily

building really begins to

weigh on the reader.

The book's central segment

now seems like a fulcrum.

Money is in one pan, in

the other the reader must

balance the cost.

 

 

 

There's a last echo to

"In Memoriam" in

"La Boisselle pastorale,

diversionary tactic,"

written in memorial of

Gebbie's "second father".

"A few short weeks and

Christmas will be here.

I'll miss my father's face at table

again."

 

 

 

Again and again, Gebbie

catches the reader off

guard with the intimacy

and familiarity of these

memorials. The headstones

may be worn but the

names, in Gebbie's hands,

walk among us long

after the book has been

laid to rest.

 

 

 

Like "In Memoriam",

these observations

are not presented in

the order they were

written, but it is

hoped they offer

the reader comprehensive

insight.

 

 

 

Tennyson emerges

from "In Memoriam" with

his faith in God

reaffirmed.

What does

Memorandum leave the

reader with?

 

 

 

After so many wars,

its a challenge for a

poet to say something

new about this too

often tried subject. It is

credit to Gebbie that

she not only manages to

bring war's aftermath

into fresh relief but that

she does so with such

 

 

 

sharp focus as to make

the reader  reconsider the

fallen as if knocked-off-

their-feet with them.

This is a meditation

for those of us left

behind. For whom do

we grieve the most?

 

 

 

These are poems

for the fallen

but not forgotten.

They will be remembered.

 

 

 

 

Cultured Llama Publishing

2016

ISBN 978-0-9932119-4-2