A Lucent Fire by Patricia Spears Jones |
Patricia Spears Jones. Buffalo, NY:
White Pine Press, 2015. ISBN-13: 978-1-935210-69-6.
This
collection of new and selected poems from Patricia Spears Jones brings the
reader her customary wit and clarity couched in sumptuous imagery and language.
Jones has published three books of poetry, Painkiller
(Tía Chucha Press 2010), Femme du
Monde (Tía Chucha Press 2006), and The
Weather That Kills (Coffee House Press 1995), and four chapbooks that are
simultaneously accessible and complex. A
Lucent Fire spans a career and life to mid-point, offering a body of work
with a unique and coherent vision grounded in the particularity of banal daily
American reality, human frailty, and the historical and cultural conflicts that
have created the present moment. The poems in this collection are full of
ghosts and dreams, but most of all, they teem with the noisy life of the
streets of New York City.
The
lushly imagistic, yet often narrative, poetry of Jones is deeply located in
place, the South of her childhood roots and the New York of her adult life. Still,
hers is a cosmopolitan and international mind, equally at home discussing the
paintings of Gabriele Münter, the German expressionist, hanging in the Lenbachhaus
museum in Munich in “Femme du Monde,” the possible literary superstardom of
Sylvia Plath, had her suicide been unsuccessful, in “Sylvia Plath: Three
Poems,” the powerful talent and meteoric rise and fall of Jimi Hendricks in “In
Like Paradise/ Out Like the Blues,” and Mesopotamian culture and the poetry of
Catullus in “What the First Cities Were All About.”
As
a poet, Jones is a singer in full voice, belting out the blues and gospel, but
also crooning Son Cubano and opera. Her
poems are full of harmony, counterpoint, rhythm, songs, and a meticulous
aesthetic. Her supple, flexible English is often lyrical and melodic, though
when appropriate, she can use harsher language and stronger rhythms within the
net of language in which she captures the reader, much as a composer uses
dissonance as a tool of emphasis and emotion.
Jones
often also becomes a prophet crying warnings and reprimands in the wilderness
and is constantly an astute social critic in poem after poem, focusing her
fierce attention on the heartlessly materialistic, racist, sexist, and
downright foolish aspects of modern American culture.
In “My
Matthew Shepard Poem,” she looks at all the homophobic, racist, sexist ways in
which
… hatred
crawls
through the culture like the cracks
in the
San Andreas fault.
…
The
playing field is not level. In fact, there is no playing field.
There are
men enraged by change. …
…
And if
this seems like male bashing, so be it.
If the
dress shoe fits, may it pinch like hell.
Above
all, Jones tells stories with wide and deep, but clear-eyed, love and
compassion for the dizzying array of all-too-human characters she creates to
entrance the reader. In the two poems titled, “April 1994: Two Deaths, Two
Wakes, Two Open Caskets: Ron Vawter” and “April 1994: Two Deaths, Two Wakes,
Two Open Caskets: Lynda Hull,” she renders two disparate personalities with
love and regret—and considers the twin nemeses of the time, AIDS and addiction.
Both poems are tragicomedies and resist sampling because of their integrated
complexity. This is not an uncommon issue with Jones’s work: it challenges a
critical culture of short quotes and one-dimensional analysis.
For
example, in her short poem about the Paul Newman movie, “Hud,” she has fun, using wit and wordplay, with the whole concept
of the movie and what has become its iconic status as a film about a man
irresistible to women who is also destructive to them while at the same time
critiquing the sexism, racism, and classism of the South and the rise of its
influence on the rest of the country.
If a
starched white shirt clings to his broad wet chest
and deer
and antelope play.
It must
be Texas.
…
Where
else can a man be a jerk
and still
make a woman’s heart ache?
…
The South
on the verge of existentialism.
With evil
enough to require regret and redemption.
God in a
thousand carry-ons
In film
reels to come.
For now
the jerk stands bare-chested
literate,
tasty.
Shading
those teasing eyes.
In
“Failed Ghazal,” Jones mourns the death of her good friend, playwright Peter
Dee (she seems to be/have been friends with much of New York’s writers,
musicians, and artists) through memories of his highly decorated apartment with
morning glories encircling his window as part of a larger mourning for a
violence-broken society. In the end, it is her dead friend’s legendary love for
life and for his friends that brings her to reconciliation. “We will find our
paths to mercy,/ to those morning glories—semaphores of grace.”
This
book contains so much—art, music, television, film, books, painters and
paintings, travel, history, politics, feminism, fashion, sex, heartbreak,
writers, musicians, societal injustice and small daily aggressions, parties and
high times, falling in and out of love, pain, disappointment, poverty,
struggle, and death—too many deaths of talented people too early. Above all
else, this book celebrates love and life in all their varicolored disguises and
extremes, often as the ordinary, the quotidian. Jones offers us the use of her
gifted eyes to see the miracles, the sacred fire, within the everyday.
This
book holds a life, and what a brave, wise life it is.
Upcoming events and readings for Patricia Spears Jones. Catch the fire:
February 17, Book Launch at BookCourt
Organized by the Poetry Society of America
w/ Lyrae Van Clief-Stefano
163 Court Street
Free
Brooklyn
February 23, NYU Book Center
Organized by Scott R. Hightower
w/ Barbara Fischer, Terese Svoboda & Jonathan Wells
7 p.m.
726 Broadway
Free
Manhattan
February 25, University of Pacific
Organized by Zhou Xiaojing, Ph.D.
English Department
Free
6:30 p.m.
Stockton, CA
March 3, The Poetry Center at San Francisco State University
Organized by Steve Dickinson
w/ Clarence Major
1600 Holloway Avenue
4:30 p.m.
San Francisco, CA
4 comments:
Thank you, Melinda. This review was first published in Cutthroat, A Journal of the Arts, a wonderful literary magazine http://www.cutthroatmag.com/
Brava, what a compelling review!
Brava, what a compelling review!
Thank you, Dean.
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