Nick Houghton reviews
Absence Has a Weight Of Its Own
by Daniel Sluman
Daniel
Sluman’s debut collection brings an unsparing eye to bear on sickness, death
and dissolution. The preface, ‘Absence has a weight of its own,’ sets the tone
for the whole, that of a child who has experienced a sense of its own
mortality, trying to fill the void created by this formative experience.
The
poet’s voice is intimate and relies on personal anecdote, conveying the early
established sense of incompleteness and loss via a number of scenes, notably in
‘Summer at the Farm,’ where loss of innocence is dealt with,
…or
that afternoon we watched
Wendy’s
blood wisp, bloom ringlets
on
the white of her thighs…,
and,
‘After the Wedding,’ where the narrator feels bathos after the headlong rush of
romance and marriage,
Back
then, you were so London
with
your ecstatic white teeth…
…we
find ourselves
stalled in the marriage bed;
your
maiden name
a
peppercorn crushed
in
my mouth…
…I
guess what I’m asking is
where
do we go
from
here?
The
emotional and physical scars caused by isolating experience, whether they are
self-inflicted or come through illness are a recurring theme. Roman, a
libertine, is only ever present at moments of dissolution and debauchery as
in, ‘Cocaine Roman,’ where,
…the
Genesis of each eye
blooming
black,
the
tachycardic heart swelling
veins
to chase themselves…,
and
is presented as some sort of automata, representing emotional distance; Roman
does not indulge his narcotic and fleshy pursuits alone, however. Trauma: blunt force, survivor and post stress are
examined in, ‘Transcript,’
…we
turned
slowly
upside
down
&
settled,
the
windscreen
full
of veins…
…the metal
missed,
but
he didn’t look right,
staring
at
his slick palms…
…Choke
the words,
&
there were
no
words.
Part
three of the collection explores love and relationships and has an empathic
quality that balances and brings closure to the overarching narrative. In,
‘Dedication,’ love is seen through the prism of domesticity,
…dropping
bacon in hot oil, dashing cutlery
on
an epiphany of china…
…If
you cleaved me in two
you’d
smell your perfume on my bones.
The
poet is coming to terms with the world, letting the outside back in. The
collection is closed with, ‘This View,’ bringing romantic resignation, and a
tight focus on what, in other hands, could have been cliché,
‘A
million people are laying heads
on
the tender of their arms, staring
at their lover’s back as they sleep…,
…I
hear the screams of my unborn children,
their
blood films my hands. Tonight,
mortgages
will swell & plates will loosen…,
but
here evokes the kind of romantic peace to which only a fool would not aspire.
Sluman’s
voice is modern, able to describe sex, vitality and youthfulness, while at the
same time being mature in its treatment of relationships. A voice with this
range is rare, and I was both moved and excited; I look forward to reading more
of his work.
Nick
Houghton is a third year creative writing and English literature student at
Kingston University. His first novel, Dirty Tuesday, will be completed in
September 2013.
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