Reviews of Recent Poetry and Prose.

    STEPPING OFF FROM NORTHLAND
    Poems by Bernard Gadd / Sudden Valley Press, NZ. $11.95
    Reviewed by Trevor Reeves.

    Bernard Gadd is the consummate poet. Persistent, dogged, and ever-ready to tackle even the most minor subject with relish. But there are a few misfires in this collection and he does not get very fired up in many of the longer poems. But Gadd himself says that everyone has a thousand voices and he certainly has a great number, himself. Variety is certainly his strong point. Many of his strengths lie in his Haiku and Senryu. Words used as visual structures and sensitively exploring music and rhythm: "within the bus / shelter / street kid / lingering." Finely observed and exquisitely evocative, is 'Rapa Nui', a poem about Easter Island's vanishing assets; concluding: "Our epic, then, is solely / this rock / jawbone / of ocean / cannot spit / us out." For Bernard Gadd, although some of his poetry is a bit loose, when it hits, it sticks. Some miss, because you have to know the special circumstances, as in the two Leo poems. The poet should always get inside the impatience of the reader and give clear context. Although the second of this duo, 'Lao Lullaby comes up with a realistic view of the poet's father: 'see how the light / is every day / on this/ love / of my father."

    SHADOW PATCHES
    Haibun by Janice Bostok, Bernard Gadd and Catherine Mair
    Hallard Press, NZ. - $14.95

    Haibun is imagistic prose and haiku-like verse that is a real and imagistic mind journey connecting in the reader's imagination. Contributions by two well-known New Zealander, Bernard Gadd and Catherine Mair, and an Australian, Janice Bostok, this is a collection showing a Western haliban and approach.

    The uninitiated will ask, how do these poems work? It's a sort of question and answer, or action, image process. A sort of dialogue but not between voices but between physical presences and time. I am reminded of Rimbaud. There are many heightened descriptions. This style of poetry, or prose poetry if you are a stickler for defining forms, gives you plenty of room to free yourself from narrative, and go into rhythm and music; word juxtaposition - with some startling results: "heirloom watercolour's / red roofs fading / into its own twilight mists." - this follows a prosodical discourse on the Captain Cook Museum, wherever that is. Anyway, it is effective as we get a good description of history as well as things the way they are now. That haliban was by Bernard Gadd , an assured master of many poetic forms and styles over the years. Catherine Mair's work is more finely focussed and more traditional, as far as halibans go. There is much description - much more than the other two, it seems to me. Interestingly, the total of the food bill at the pub in 'Sleeps Six' is given as $44.20. My calculator says $33.20, so you can be overcharged if you fall for poetic licence. Janine Bostok's work differs from Catherine Mair's in that it is not so much of a travelogue. More introspective, perhaps. In "Getting off at the Roundabout,' the last lines; an intriguing finale: "his body weight / on the bed moves closer / spreading warmth." - this follows an expansive description of an encounter in her relationship with "him". Perhaps Bernard Gadd sums up the haliban style best, in his tightly-packed 'Deathly'. There is some emotional power as well as the standard description: "Irises / nothing / but black" This is a splendidly produced book on recycled paper with nice readable type. Janice Bostok provides the graphics which are thoughtfully done and add to the poems to a great measure without trying to better them. A talented artist indeed, and a very proficient exponent of line. This book is one of the nicest collections of modern poetry I have seen and will have pride of place on my bookshelves - handy, so that I can have a bit of a read from time to time.

    TAUR - by Jack Lasenby.
    Longacre Press, Dunedin, NZ. $14.95 pbk.

    Imagine our world for in the future, but without the gadgets, city domes and spaceships that you might expect. This book, the sequel to "Because we were the travellers' which I have not read yet, traces the fortunes of Ish, whom the author does not describe in much detail, is fleeing from Squint-Face and his salt men who want their 'god;' the green stone dolphin which Ish has stolen and has hanging around his neck. Ish loses his family and loved ones to the salt men, then embarks on his southern journey from the 'Whykatto' and 'Lake Top' to the edges of the Strait which divides the North Land from the South Land. He arrives there with Taur, the man who cannot speak. They share knowledge on how to survive in this hostile environment where forests are reduced to burnt stumps and the sun of summer, then the winter are fierce extremes. Obviously ozone-depletion lets in the harsh rays and a warming climate has led to a weather-reversal; another ice age (all perfectly predictable, I'm told). Lasenby has obviously done his homework. The pair, after a spectacularly gory battle with the salt men who dog their every footstep, arrive minus their animals - donkeys, sheep and cows, at the South Land after have taken some handy transport on an iceberg. This is a gripping story full of twists and turns, sudden tragedies and miraculous recoveries. High adventure at its gripping best. Lasenby is a master storyteller with oodles of experience writing for young people. He pulls no punches and some of the action is explicitly told, yet remains marvellously in context. The anguish of Ish and Taur's personal situations are finely drawn. Taur, the perfect foil, soldiers on bravely with Ish's dedicated encouragement and they both look for a life of tranquillity and abundance, and of course security in this hostile landscape. Whether you are a young adult, or a rather older one like me, you would enjoy this gripping and memorable book. Certainly a tribute to Lasenby's undoubted talent and a publisher's obvious caring thought to the book's design and presentation. In-house designer and artist, Jenny Cooper has helpfully provided a map of the landmasses and journey. How often we did we do that as kids? Drawing imaginary islands and creating stories to fit them. The best of my summer reading, and I wouldn't be so mean as to tell you the ending. Buy it and read it for yourself. You won't be disappointed. I hope the publisher is successful in negotiating overseas publishing rights. This book certainly deserves that.

    GETTING THERE. Gloria B. Yates - Poems and graphics.
    Hildegaard Productions, NZ and Aust.

    The publishers, in this slim volume of poems and graphics have produced a book that they hope will create a climate for popular poetry in New Zealand that could, they stress, interest a general public should it actually read them. Hildegaard Productions want a climate which avoids financial and professional hardship, depriving the poets and their readers of a lively interaction. Gloria B. Yates is the first poet in the series. She comes from Queensland, Australia. Winner of a scholarship to Oxford, surprising all her contemporary pundits, Gloria Yates has blossomed out into a wacky but perceptive poet who would have all the academics tut-tutting all the way down the corridors to their next committee meeting.

    Her poem, called 'Retired' dwells on a day, Thursday, when the pension arrives. All other days in the week cease to exist, and the illustration that accompanies it consists of two speech bubbles set into a jet black background. "It seems uncommonly dark for a Thursday, pet?" "Yes dear, that's because we're dead." At other times the author feels or shows her age. 'At Bald Hills Park', "I am old and fat and sixty-three / today I heard a singing tree / at Bald Hills Park" The captioned photo of Gloria states "and at times / I feel inspired / to do a little dance." not to overlook the concluding lines of the poem: "God, if there is God, this is all I can do. / As the tree sang for me / I will sing for you." There are more in a similar vein. It's all good fun. I wonder what Gloria was like in her younger days? Full of fun, hope, and life? If nothing else, she is still full of life. One wishes this book the success it deserves.

    POSTCARDS FROM THE COAST - G. J. Melling.
    Thumbprint Press, NZ. $18.50.
    Reviewed by Graeme Collins.

    This truly is a postcard (or postcards) to send somewhere. It reads as one long poem or 26 short ones and is illustrated with tight black and white photos, bound beautifully, and printed on fine paper. I would say this is quite the nicest production I've yet seen of a NZ poet's work.

    Described as a poet/architect from Wellington, while there is fine structure here (the poems read well back to front at almost any point) it is obvious that Melling is a true poet at heart. My sister-in-law, no mean poet herself, said about it "I wish I could write like that." Indeed my copy eventually went missing in rather suspicious circumstances, and I was reminded of late poet Jerry Rubin's 'Steal this book.' Actually the poems (or poem) are minimalist in the style of Buddhist 'koans' or the Tao Te Ching. Occasionally a glimpse of Melling's Mersey past appears in the lovely line: "all rivers are pledged to the sea." (#15). A couple of references to dogs on the beach made me feel slightly uncomfortable - perhaps I know Waitarere Beach a bit too well. But the poetry here is a real tour-de-force - don't steal it, kill someone, if you have to, to obtain a copy.

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