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| Read more about the book here. |
A lifetime in-the-writing, this sumptuous collection of thirty-eight poems delights the senses whilst fortifying one’s imagination. Proving herself to be an artiste in every sense of the word, North Yorkshire-based poet Jo has evidently - and wisely - invested eons of quality time into the crafting of the material which dominates her very first book of poetry.
From the reflective nature of opening masterwork ‘Embarkations’ (‘… an old life pours down steep stairs’), the reader is lured onto a journey of the most formidable and hypnotic order. Taking her audience figurative and geographical places not usually courted by fellow poets, Jo transports all those who are lucky enough to read her entrancing work. Whether she’s focusing on ‘fox-trots with Eros’ in ‘Piccadilly Circus’, or entering ‘bleak palaces on the arms of Poet Princes’ in the Egypt-anchored majesty of ‘Life Class’, you can be assured that Jo’s detail-laced writing is destined to move you on every level.
It’s clear to read that Jo’s experienced a remarkable life less ordinary. She’s lived all over England for a start, having been born in Durham, before spending time in Norfolk, Surrey and Lincolnshire. Currently calling the seaside resort of Scarborough ‘home’, she wields that ever-so-rare knack of pitting people into arresting scenarios, painting lavish pictures with words that seem to be very carefully chosen by default.
One may be reminded of Dorian Gray’s fate as they lap up ‘Vanity’ (‘… you bared lupine teeth into the smiling surfaces of silver teapots’), before the short but perfectly eloquent ‘Woman Drinker’ coquettishly threatens to stall readers in their tracks given its succinct brilliance, ‘A glass fan reflecting the glare of all who desired her’. ‘Suffolk Romance’, meanwhile, stops time ‘as green horizons wash velvet over the village’. As if to purposefully counter such ruralised innocence, ‘Two Crows’ (‘… entwined in anger’) promptly manages to startle, its descriptive focus utterly compelling in tone. ‘Hill Farm’ goes on to prove to be the most haunting poem on offer, the brief beauty of ‘Making Silk’ hankering after the collection’s ‘Most Magical’ title.
All poems sit beside one another as though their order evolved organically over time and through space. Not a single word is out of place, as reminded when the breathtaking power of ‘Violin Section, 1941’ proceeds to glue readers to their respective seats with ‘music perverted into an instrument of death’. As stark as relevant language allows, Jo never shies away from being brutal when she needs to be in order to heighten the emotional impact of her poems. Refusing to sentimentalise her work for the sake of doing so, her extraordinary poetry remains true as a direct result of her searing honesty. Far from being enslaved by the language that she so clearly adores, Jo uses the English language to her own ends, her energising mastery of wordplay guaranteed to delight readers of all ages.
Having recently completed an MA in Creative Writing, it’s heartening to see that her talents have been brought to the literary fore with this genuinely stunning collection from ‘Valley Press’. Reeling from the strength of material within, let’s hope Jo succeeds in collating supplementary material – old and new – for publication in the near future.
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| Read more about the book here. |
The third book of poetry to be unveiled by Yorkshire-based poet Jamie McGarry, ‘The Dead Snail Diaries’ has Jamie attempt to absolve himself of the guilt inspired by accidentally crushing an innocent snail to death. In a surreal twist of fate, upon hearing the fateful crunch, Jamie stooped to find a tiny book: the snail’s diary. Recognising the strength of the scrawl within its belittled pages, Jamie conspired to adapt the snail’s writing into a legible format. ‘The Dead Snail Diaries’ is the stunning result.
Suffused with twenty-four exquisite poems that focus on every imaginable experience and emotion once endured and enjoyed by the late snail, the premise is too extraordinary to overlook. Coolly beginning where the snail’s life left off, the opening poem is craftily entitled, ‘The Haunting of Poet by Snail’. As hoped, it details ‘A tragic mix of slime and shrapnel’ in light of Jamie unwittingly becoming a killer… though he’d undoubtedly escape with a manslaughter charge were he to be summoned by a court of law. After all, shell-shocking accidents happen.
Hilariously portraying slugs as ‘beer-swilling’ and ‘hard-living’ in comparison, Jamie sets up a strain of sibling rivalry, the menacing nature of ‘The Hollow Snails’ startling with its apparent brutality: ‘You saw us from a window, between release and our demise.’ In ‘Snail Browner Than Ever’, affairs sway into existential territory, at least relatively-speaking: ‘The world grows ever upwards, without glancing at its feet.’ Jamie’s correct to so boldly commit such an observation to paper. It’s heartening to know that fellow scribes are equally as keen to comment upon the way in which some folk dismiss the art of paying attention to detail, unwilling to keep themselves grounded for fear of stagnating, perhaps.
Whether he’s focused on snails, or describing Hannah Hauxwell’s humble life in his debut collection of poetry, Jamie remains an objective observer whilst subjectively pandering to the entire gamut of emotions. Crucially, his tongue is forever lashing around his cheek, Jamie’s sharp wit triumphing in making his poetry as accessible as possible without sounding pretentious. Channelling offbeat bursts of humour into a staggering proportion of his poems, Jamie proves that he can be serious yet lighthearted in one fell swoop - very often in the same sentence.
‘Snail Goes Speed Dating’ speaks for itself in the most ironic manner. ‘Even mutual love at first sight cannot be consummated for several minutes,’ Jamie relates by way of the deceased snail’s most potent observation. Throughout, slugs tend to get the last laugh. For instance, ‘Slug’s Night Out’ pounds with the self-belief of a tough-as-nails slug psyched-up for a hedonistic night on the patio tiles. In spite of a slug committing suicide in lukewarm beer, the poem can’t fail in raising a smile. The same goes for the genius extolled in ‘The Snail Not Taken’ (‘I moved the one with regret in its eyes – and hoped it would make a difference’), for it’s a beautifully crafted poem partly inspired by Robert Frost’s most famous work, ‘The Road Not Taken’.
‘Snail’s Advice to His Son’ succeeds in being utterly charming from the get-go as a young snail receives wise words from Papa Snail, chewing on advice along the following lines: ‘Don’t take life too seriously, son, for few survive uncrushed.’ In its wake, the colossal ‘In Search of the Great Green Sea Snail’ muscles into the word-obsessed fray. Providing the multi-act backbone of the collection, it tells the epic story of an all-conquering snail. ‘A Snail at the Races’, meanwhile, chances upon arguably the most confident snail to ever have marked a trail in history, implying that he could ‘move’ as fast as Usain Bolt if the urge commanded his shell to shift at earth-shaking speed. Delighting in all nooks and crannies of Snail World, the problem of swimming with one ‘foot’ is also brought to the reader’s attention. ‘A Snail Says’ and ‘Slug Goes to Rehab’ foster further laughs.
Complemented by a grin-inducing range of illustrations throughout, ‘The Dead Snail Diaries’ perfectly showcases Jamie’s artistic talents from the first page to the last. Admirably acting as a marked deviation from previous work, the book is a joy not only to read, but also to look at. Quirkily designed with a plethora of loving touches, it represents the most endearing manifestation of Jamie’s sensational literary output to date.
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You heard it here first, readers... 'sensational'! Though I think when it comes to the obituary, 'grin-inducing' may be the one that sticks. Don't forget to come to the Snail Reading on the 28th July, and Steve's launch on the 5th August!
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