About Me, Evidently
This is where I'm supposed to write about
myself, accompanied by a photo, usually about 20 years old, but somehow a
picture of a theatre has nestled alongside this, but it, the theatre, is
about 100 yards up the road from where I live, in Leicester (pronounced
Les-tah not Lie-cester) so maybe it qualifies. Sort
of. I wonder if I'm sitting in there. |
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BY WAY OF A BLURB A
Chide's Alphabet is also available as a freely distributed e-zine in
.rtf format from the Editor. Below is an appraisal of the e-zine,
originally posted to the Imitation Poetics List by Candice Ward, on the
day of its debut, May the 26th 2001.
Apologies for cross-posting (don't you love the way everybody
apologizes for this, then goes right on doing it?). But I want to tout the
first issue of A CHIDE'S ALPHABET on account of its spectacularly
consistent spectacularity--not a ringer in the lot unless it's one of mine
(how would I know?)--and to encourage listees to order it from David
Bircumshaw so that he doesn't get depressed and stop putting it out. After
spending a couple of hours pleasurably immersed in its 40-odd pages, I
think it would be a bargain at twice the price (even free-squared!), if
only for the dazzling arrays of Emma Lew and Trevor Joyce poems--a nice
big chunk of each, and Joyce's brilliant, sustained use of repetition in
the 3 "lattice" poems invites their repeated rereading--plus a good-sized,
well-varied selection of lyrics and longer poems by Alison Croggon. The
Robin Hamilton sampler here displays his trademark wit, and I was pleased
to make the acquaintance of Welsh poet Ian Davidson, whose work I didn't
know at all. The issue is nicely framed by editor Bircumshaw's "Modest
Introduction" (with an amusingly breezy acknowledgments statement) and a
nice mix of poet Bircumshaw's new and older, cryptically encrypted
poems. The single, relatively brief poem by Randolph Healy here is one
on which I could spend hours happily puzzling out its fittings: 5 senses,
7 locks holding 7 broken keys (a chromosomal image with an allusion to the
Seven Sleepers?), 4 tastes, 4 odors, a robbery, a birth, a case of
lordosis(?), and a race with time--all contextualized to a right triangle
sided by difference and identity, "joined" by a dying star. The poem's
entitled "Flight." Go figure. Well, I could go on, but won't, and just
hope I've whetted your appetites for A CHIDE'S ALPHABET.
Candice
Ward
david.bircumshaw@ntlworld.com
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