Katherine
Lockton reviews
By
Esther Morgan
Sometimes
it is the simplest of words in the simplest of orders that allows the subject
of the poem “to become itself.” This is particularly true of Esther Morgan’s Grace, where the poetry is deceptively
simple on the first reading. It is only after subsequent readings that a maze
of hidden links between the poems is uncovered. These links come together to
create alternative meanings to Morgan’s words. Morgan successfully conceals the
seams in her tapestry of images, which if shown would break the spell that
engulfs us as we read.
One
of Morgan’s main preoccupations in her third collection is to look at what
Wordsworth called “spots of time.” It is in this way that different moments are
distilled to reveal the essence behind them. In the opening poem, ‘Grace’ it is the “the moment the house
empties like a city in August/so completely/it forgets you exist” that is
explored through simple yet amazing images:
“the circle
of white plates on the kitchen table
the serious chairs that attend them
even
the roses on the papered walls
seem
to open a little wider.”
The images are clear, concise and a true depiction
of the objects described. Morgan’s simple yet revealing style is reminiscent of
William Carlos William in, for example, ‘Red Wheelbarrow.’ Morgan and William’s
poems’ beauty and language are simple, but not easy to achieve, and pretend to
be simpler than they really are.
Another common factor between the two poets is that
they both concentrate on colour as opposed to shape to evoke haunting images in
our minds. The poems are so arresting that they stand as manifestos as well as
testaments to what can be achieved with simple language. Morgan is so adept at
stepping into a moment that when she tells us that she has been doing so since
a girl, we believe her.
One of the main images that Morgan uses to
investigate her spots of time is the domestic one, which prevails throughout
the collection. Morgan adoption of this imagery accentuates the theme of
simplicity that is present in all of the poems. She is able to take a uncomplicated
scene and through the use of common household images present it in a manner that
everyone can relate to and appreciate.
In using domestic imagery Morgan succeeds in creating
an air of sanctity to the home in which a table is laid out as if “an altar.” In
‘The China-mender’s Daughter’ she is
able to compare people to crockery:
“The
people in my life are like plates,
I
have to keep them happy, keep them spinning.”
Morgan continues this powerful simile and builds on
it explaining, “how she’d check for veins of damage/lifting each piece of
fine-bone to the light.” In these lines the china-mender’s daughter's
activities are viewed with the same sanctity as those of a Doctor.
Morgan’s use of the domestic image is also seen in
the poem ‘After Life’, in which she
tells us that:
“As
far back as great, great, great
names
and faces
are
scoured away
like
plates scraped clean
of
painted flowers
by
daughters wanting more.”
Here, as in ‘Morandi:
Still Lives’, Morgan plays around with the structure of the poem on the
page in order not only to inform us of how to read the lines but also to allow
them space enough to breathe freely so that we can appreciate them fully. The
words employed are visceral and violent yet simple, which means that their
impact is greater when read.
Morgan is a master of imagery and it is the
uniqueness of the pictures that she creates in our mind that forces us to take
notice of her work. She not only puts her own twist on domestic imagery turning
our expectations upside down, so that we are struck by the freshness of this
perspective, but she also stamps an enduring imprint in our minds. We cannot
help but read ‘Grace’ over and over again, trying to unravel the seams in order
to understand and emulate her art. Lines such as “sometime in the early
sixties/a candlestick takes a vow of silence”, “the embankment buddleia/burning
with admirals” and “the children drowsy as flies/in the long classrooms” are
all typical of Morgan’s simple yet powerful style which keeps us captivated and
turning the pages of Grace.
Morgan’s poetry sings to us in a concert that we cannot
help but listen to again and again. Her verse is extremely lyrical and has a lovely
rhythm to it which is simple and soft:
“the
takings not counted and locked in the safe,
the tables still sticky with rings.”
We are also invited to hear sounds such as “a
back-yard dog” who “barks at the stars”, “the thought occurs like birdsong”, “a
voice” and “creaking wings.” Morgan fills are ears and minds so that we believe
in her “make-believe trees” and “stranger walking in the dawning fields” who
“might take her for a vase of wildflowers” she is so still.
In
Grace we are led on a journey
through stillness, music and simplicity. Morgan’s poetry consistently intrigues
throughout the collection, starting and ending with poems that demonstrate her
versatility as a poet. Her subtle writing echoes the stillness explored
throughout the collection. Grace is
an altar to the art of fine writing and should be read by all who love and
appreciate poetry.
K. Lockton
is currently working as a poetry workshop leader. Her work has appeared in
magazines such as Magma, Rising and online at Eyewear, Poetry 24 and Whippersnapper
Press. She is assistant editor of South Bank Poetry.
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