Sarah Hudgens

Ultra-Talk: Johnny Cash, The Mafia, Shakespeare, Drum Music, St. Teresa of Avila, and 17 Other Colossal Topics of Conversation

admin — Thu, 05 Jul 2007 13:43:00 +0000

In the introduction to Ultra-Talk, David Kirby writes, “What I offer in these pages is a way to read, see, and savor, a post-theoretical world view that everybody can share.” That is a strong assertion, and though this collection of essays covers diverse and interesting ground, Kirby doesn’t quite live up to his goal.

Elsewhere in the introduction, the author defines a set of criteria for what is “good”: that which “must not only appeal to both the elite and the public…it must also have a track record.” This criteria, presumably, sets the stage for the subject matter he will present in this “book of king-sized cultural monuments.” It is true that the variety of subjects does not disappoint; from Walt Whitman to Saint Teresa of Avila to Nascar to the reality show Big Brother, Kirby delights with his surprising turns and associative logic. Despite his efforts to speak across racial and class boundaries, however, Kirby succeeds in speaking directly, and only, to white, middle-class, academically-inclined readers.

Most of these compositions are a compelling blend of personal essay and literary or cultural criticism; they manage to both entertain and inform, which is a difficult task. Each essay reaches farther than the typical personal essay—start with a hook-y personal anecdote, then move outward toward some larger truth about life or human nature—and attempts not only to contemplate big questions, but also to educate readers in the process. I found Kirby’s explorations of Dante, Whitman, Shakespeare and Dickinson fascinating. But then again, I read those authors extensively during my academic career. Aside from the sporadic, required high school poetry lessons that many teenagers sleep through, most Americans, arguably, have not. By assuming that his reader is well-versed in classic literature, Kirby excludes much of his potential audience.

My point is that Kirby perhaps shoots himself in the foot with the grandiose definition his book presents in the introduction. It’s not that this collection of essays is bad. I, as a white, middle-class, academically-inclined person, very much enjoyed Kirby’s whimsical yet didactic tone and unique perspective on popular culture. The essay “Why Does It Always Have to Be a Boy Baby” was particularly well-crafted in its refusal both to endorse and to criticize religion, opting instead to examine the intrinsic role religion plays in every person’s life, whether or not s/he is a willing participant.

Kirby, a poet and literature professor, is skilled at making intellectual subject matter interesting and accessible. I simply wonder: is his “post-theoretical world view” really one “that everybody can share?”

Written by: Sarah Hudgens, July 5th 2007

That Those Lips Had Language

admin — Sat, 07 Apr 2007 21:02:00 +0000

By Anne Blonstein

Plan B Press

Filled with surprising turns and bursts of imagery and imagination, That Those Lips had Language is an ambitious book of poetry. Blonstein seems awed by language itself, and she pushes its limits to upset readers’ expectations. Placing titles at the ends of poems, employing unorthodox punctuation and obscure vocabulary, and using primarily lowercase letters indicate that the author is challenging readers to approach these poems with a non-traditional point of view, to allow themselves to have a unique, perhaps transformative, experience.

A concern with the female body and its experiences is pervasive and compelling here, as well as a constant turning from abstraction to concrete imagery and back, as if Blonstein searches for a way to express those experiences, but realizes the impossiblity of such a task. Turning to puns and rhyme for inspiration, she writes of a “waisted world of light” where ghosts’ “desire is entropy renaunting/ space (boundary of violets instead of a face).” Her pairings of abstract and concrete imagery are often stunning: “will: a chandelier of orange music,” and “the high sea sounds like/ a ruffled blue in exile.” Thankfully, no matter how far Blonstein ventures into the conceptual, each poem provides a grounding moment of the tangible. She knows these moments are necessary to dispell a reader’s anxiety of the unknown and keep her reading.

Blonstein’s perspective is unquestionably feminist here; though the poems touch on overt politics only a few times, one understands that every unorthodox use of grammar and image asks us to rethink our comfortable and cliché’d schemas. The book combines this questioning of the dominant paradigm, characteristic of “language poets,” with a desire to create a real, sensual world for the reader. Perhaps Blonstein describes her goal with these lines from “babelique”: “she regenerates words to verify the world/ because what has always been forgotten/ is like arms starfish sacrifice to survive.”

Written by: Sarah Hudgens, April 7th 2007

Smash the Windows

admin — Sat, 07 Apr 2007 14:14:00 +0000

By Mischief Brew

Fistolo

I have truly never heard anything like Mischief Brew. Much of their music pairs such disparate elements as a heavy-metal bassline and a twangy mandolin, and a study of the lyrics reveals a similar discord: an aggressive expression of anti-establishment anger, under which lies a genuine desire to celebrate freedom and individuality. Their music feels at once like a barroom brawl and an intelligent, textured cultural critique.

While Smash the Windows incorporates solid musicianship and strong production, the vocals miss their mark. Erik Petersen growls his way through many of these songs as though he is determined to sound like a true punk-rocker, but he instead achieves a forced and grating melodrama. I picture him onstage in full pirate getup—a skull-tight bandana and crossbones punctuating a faded-black t-shirt. I appreciate the band’s tendency to combine unlikely elements (e.g., heavy metal rasping with a relaxed jazz riff), but I can’t help but think the vocals limit the potential of these songs to appeal to a wide audience.

Nevertheless, these songs are catchy and filled with a youthful sense of rebellion that dares listeners to not sing along. Raucous music and anarchistic lyrics create a powerful combination in the songs that work here, such as “Nomad’s Revolt” in which Petersen instructs us to “kill off Columbus and turn the world around.” “Roll Me Through the Gates of Hell” uses a fun, ska-influenced progression to declare “Satan’s army’s rising up soon/ well if it is, I’m the secretary of No-State.” Though some lyrics seem to stem from an immature or naïve perspective, Smash the Windows is a compelling call to action overall, and its integration of jazz, metal, punk and americana traditions treads some much-needed new musical ground.

Written by: Sarah Hudgens, April 7th 2007