The Smell of Oranges. Poems by Jill Chan. Earl of Seacliff Art Workshop, Box 42, Paekakariki, Wellington. $19.95.
It is good to see the Earl of Seacliff put out so many books of really worthwhile poetry these days. This little book is no exception. Jill Chan was born in the Philippines and lives in Auckland where she graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree. Her work has been published in most New Zealand literary magazines. Her images are of a 'comparative' nature common to Eastern thought. In 'Weight': "Birds become a flight of stairs". Seeking to recall the 'sky down here' on an imperative and mischievous command. Many of these poems are not so much unemotional as intensely interested in everything that is going on. A scientist's view? Partly. Just an outgoing mergence with humankind. In 'Reckoning' "…You want stumbling / lines of friendship to form / to grow strong / and become invisible". This reiteration, reinforcement does not denote a state of peace, satisfaction does. This book is highly recommended as a really good read.

Someone Else's Life. Kapka Kassabova. Auckland University Press. Private Bag 92019, Auckland. $24.99.
Another émigré to New Zealand but this time from the West. Bulgaria in fact. Kassabova's work is of finely tuned memories, brought from modern Europe and possessing striking lyrical passages. Her work, of striking international flavour is welcome here, not diluting, but adding richly to the local work. Having said that, we are not being given any 'let-up' to a long series of constructs that show this recollection of the past and its germane attachment to the present. Sometimes this succeeds and sometimes it becomes a little clichéd. In 'The Crossing', "Fire is an illusion of the dying day / And neither this nor the absence of it / is an answer". This is a little tired compared to the subtle imagery in 'Calculations', ending "May you never recover / from the lightness of my touch". Taking the good with the not so good does not take away from the solid achievement of this book. Seek and ye shall find.

Sing Song. Poems by Anne Kennedy, Auckland University Press. $24.99
Anne Kennedy is a widely published author of fiction with stories anthologized and also published overseas. Her poetry style is unobtrusive an the substance the ordinary things of life. In a book where nothing really stands out, nothing jars, either. Many of the little 'stories' are engaging and full of fine detail of a sort of placeless and timeless kind. – not much flavour of location here, or distinctive culture. Not that there must be, of course. Anne Kennedy in the Oxford Companion to New Zealand Literature is described as an 'innovative younger postmodernist'. What ever postmodernism is supposed to mean and capture, this work doesn't seem to be to be it. It doesn't get too far out of the range of being straight and grainy. Ms Kennedy wears excitement on her sleeve. A book worthy of a good search for what you like, though.

Lifeblood. Poems by Joel Hayward. Totem Press, Box 8065, Palmerston North.
Joel Hayward has had a chequered career so far. As an academic, and now as a poet and fiction writer, Hayward has achieved much. This is a complex book, and deserves a much longer review. Hayward is at home with the visceral, the cut and thrust of argument, war and death, pain and revenge. Mostly he makes a good job of translating this into fiction The bullets in "Birds of the Battlefield' (a poem in itself!), "What do they say / when they introduce / a new friend / to death". The Welsh maiden Jenny, of 'Jenny Green teeth' debuts here (see his stories). The rest of the poems are racy and innovative, a definite cut above the moderate fare currently on offer. You enter a whole new world when you read Joel Hayward's poetry.

Jenny Green Teeth and other Stories. Totem Press, Box 8065, Palmerston North.
This is a stunning book of short stories, for their sheer variety and depth, and also strength of language. The 'fable' aspect of the title story is compelling and real – not that I will give away any of the plot here! 'My Own Grave' about the Terrace End Cemetery is scary. It is strange that dead people are treated as so real, but that is the stuff of exciting storytelling. Hayward is no stranger to the study of mass murder, genocide and war. Sometimes in fiction the truth can really come out. When contemplating Dachau (Nazi extermination camp) he agrees that the horrors, so individualistically applied, were unbearable beyond belief. Then the story goes on to Dresden which was carpet bombed by the Americans in WW2 in thousand bomber raids. The true meaning of holocaust is revealed here. "But in those weeks I saw the skies open and a rain of exploding steel fall upon Dresden like a Biblical curse" says the German priest. Then the firestorm. The air from surrounding areas was sucked into the vortex of fire and people suffocated. They didn't stand a chance. The American bombers didn't even know their victims' names. They were, as described in modern terms by them now, as 'collateral damage'. Two wrongs do not make a right is the essence of the story. The wrongs so graphically illustrated show that we have never learned anything, except to blame each other for it. That is not the only 'salutory lesson' in the collection. Hayward writes with an eye to truth and justice and historical accuracy. It is up to us to know what to do with writing as superb as this. Can we learn?

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