NEIL
LEADBEATER Reviews
Apocalypse Mix by Jane
Satterfield
(Autumn
House Press, Pittsburgh, 2017)
Jane
Satterfield is the author of three previous collections of poetry: Her
Familiars; Assignation at Vanishing Point and Shepherdess with an
Automatic. She is also the author of Daughters of Empire: A Memoir of a
Year in Britain and Beyond. She is the recipient of a National Endowment
for the Arts Fellowship in Poetry; the William Faulkner Society’s Gold Medal
for the Essay, and several poetry prizes from the Florida Review, Myslexia and
The Bellingham Review. Born in England and raised in the United States,
she currently lives in Baltimore, teaches creative writing at Loyola
University, Maryland and is married to the poet Ned Balbo. She earned a
Bachelor of Arts in English and Creative Writing at Loyola College in 1986 and
in the following year received a Master of Fine Arts at the University of Iowa.
It is evident that a good
deal of care and attention has gone into the production of Apocalypse Mix. Special
mention must be made of the close collaboration between the author and the
visual artist Tanja Softić whose artwork, Migrant Universe: Departure Landscape, is on the cover. Satterfield
met Softić when the latter had been awarded
a residency at the Virginia Centre for the Creative Arts (VCCA) and it is clear
from the subject matter of this volume of poems and that of Softić’s own work
that there are shared affinities between them. Satterfield’s poems are set
against the backdrop of war—war that is both past and present- and its
far-reaching effects upon our daily lives. She is the daughter of an American
serviceman, an Air Force reservist who saw active duty in the Gulf War and she
grew up near Andrews Air Force Base in suburban Maryland. Understandably, she
is close to her subject and her engagement with political and military matters
is all the more telling and authoritative as a result.
Originally from Sarajevo,
Bosnia and Herzegovina, Softić is a Professor of Art at the University of Richmond in Richmond,
Virginia. She goes back to Sarajevo every year to visit her family and, in the
summer of 2013, she began to take photographs of the devastation that she saw
there, especially of the cultural institutions and the museums and libraries
that she had once enjoyed frequenting. The front cover of Apocalypse Mix is taken from one of ten works on paper mounted on
panels called Migrant Universe. Softić’s work inspired Satterfield to
write a sequence of prose poems under the same name which appear as an integral
part of the book. Some, if not all of the titles in this section, are taken
from the titles of the panels given by the artist. What Softić expresses in acrylic, pigment and
chalk, Satterfield expresses in the written word.
The title, Apocalypse Mix, which carries with it both biblical and artistic
connotations, calls to mind two very different worlds. On the one hand, there
is the notion of revelation or disclosure and on the other of “combination”—whereby
the parts of one thing or the things of one sort, are diffused among those of
another: in this case, the fact that war and its consequences becomes
inextricably entangled with our lives. Interestingly, Satterfield, with her
frequent references to pop music, gives us another take on the word “mix” which
is, among other things, a technical term for playing two records (one after the
other) with an overlap in which the beats match or a version of a musical
recording that has been mixed in a particular way. In these poems, the
soundtrack of war goes on playing in our ears long after the fighting has
stopped.
The titles of some of her poems,
such as Resurrection Spell, Angel of
Absence; Angel of Departure; Second Angel, Evangelist and Triptych contain religious or artistic
words although there is nothing particularly “religious” to be found in them. The
nearest she comes to this is in the poem Field
Manual for the Forgotten which is headed up with a reference to May 21,
2011: the date provided for “the Rapture” by evangelical Christian radio host
Harold Camping and begins with the lines: “After
we’ve played our Apocalypse / Mix, after late lunch and presents…” References
to pop music and pop culture in poems such as Radio Clash help to set her work within a specific time frame and
contain resonances of their own making. Music, in all its forms, can be a very
powerful trigger in helping people to remember and define specific moments in
their lives.
The book is divided into five
sections. Sections II and IV are extended reflections on specific subjects
while the other three contain poems that are free-standing and complete in
their own right. Satterfield is good at coming up with strong, eye-catching
titles. While nothing could perhaps be as surprising or dramatic as the title
of one of her previous collections, Shepherdess
with an Automatic, there are plenty of arresting titles here that make the
reader want to engage with the poem from the outset.
Satterfield also has a good ear for
knowing when to create a line break for maximum effect. This excerpt from Elegy with Trench Art and Asanas
contains some good examples:
Time
to think of
some intention, something as simple
as the
reason that brought you to your mat – that, not the noise
rising up
from Stoneleigh Lanes, the business at basement level –
thunderous,
I think, though nothing next to the volley of
shellfire
and mines going off in the front’s busier sectors –
strange
sound track stuck in my hearing long after
I left the museum’s
cool halls, since I walked the wood –
planked
trench alleys of the Great War Exhibit…
She packs a lot of history, a lot
of geography and a lot of what I term the paraphernalia of daily living into
her poems. Any of these things, particularly the latter, can unexpectedly spark
off a memory of war. In An Ideal for
Living she writes:
why is it this season’s
psychedelic
orange makes me think of detainees in stress
positions?
Some of her poems are, in a
personal sense, close to home. In Special
Screening –an event which contains a reference to the 9/11 attacks,
Satterfield asks:
Who knows
what war is like except
those who
serve and those who care to ask,
take notes,
tell the rest of us…It’s been
years since
he’s been in uniform, no fan
of nightly
news, but Dad still wants to shake
this
journalist’s hand…
and in Souvenir she mentions her father’s experience of hearing loss in
one ear as a result of a parasitic infection during the Gulf War. This is just
one of many examples of the legacy of war.
In Section II, Bestiary for a Centenary, Satterfield pays tribute to the many
animals who played an important role in the First World War. In a sequence of seven
poems, using sources such as Alan Taylor’s ten-part series “World War I in
Photos”, she draws attention to the work of a diverse range of animals,
including pigeons, camels, mules, dispatch dogs and horses and the ways in
which many of them were boon companions to those who served alongside them. All
had names, of course, and some were given rank. Even glow worms had their uses
giving off light for reading in the dark. This is an important sequence which
highlights the work of animals that still continues to this day in places like
the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms & Explosives’ (ATF) national
canine division headquartered in Front Royal, Virginia where dogs are now
trained as key investigators in the war on terror.
Section IV, Migrant Universe, draws us into the heart of the collection.
Central to these poems is the idea of memory as messenger. The telegraph wires mapping the tangle of
transit seen so clearly on the book cover becomes in Second Angel, an angel’s transmission across time and space. For
Softić it is a means of reconstruction, a way of visualising the past. Time and
again Satterfield makes the transition from the past to the present with
consummate ease.
Satterfield cites a number of
writers in her poems. Section IV incorporates a range of voices including
Michael Ondaatje, John Berryman, Vasko Popa and Albert Camus and the prose poem
For Virginia Woolf, March 28, 2011
includes Woolf’s entries from A Writer’s
Diary and her 1940’s essay, “Thoughts on Peace in an Air Raid.” Several of her poems are prefaced by
quotations or contain italicised phrases drawn from other sources. Et in Arcadia Ego includes excerpts from
work by Frank O’Hara, Theodore Roosevelt and Virgil.
A few poems, such as Salt and Cursing for Beginners, are
set in the UK and reflect the fact that Satterfield was born Northampton,
England and that her mother grew up in Corby. Salt is of particular relevance here since it describes footage
recorded in 1979 by Midlands News as
steel workers and townspeople in Corby faced the imminent closure of Stewarts
and Lloyds Steel Works.
Satterfield goes out of her way to
let us know that there are no poems about the natural world in this collection.
In Why I Don’t Write Nature Poems she
says
I don’t see
a cow meadow as any kind of invocation. Am drawn to the satellite dish
disrupting the view.
Her poems are too bound up with the
noise of war, with the importance of incoming breaking news.
In this volume, each poem is
multifaceted offering up multiple layers of meaning. Portuguese Man o’ War—the last poem in the book- is a case in point.
The subject is both an armed frigate and Physalia physalis, a
marine hydrozoan also known as the man-of-war,
blue bottle, or floating terror, whose venomous tentacles can deliver a painful (and sometimes
fatal) sting.
These
are intelligent, well-researched poems that encompass both personal and
universal worlds. Her exploration of history is both authentic and engaging.
The strength of these poems lies in their density, lyric grace and
multi-layered complexity. Selected by David St. John, Apocalypse Mix won the Autumn House Poetry Prize for 2016.
*****
Neil
Leadbeater is an author, essayist,
poet and critic living in Edinburgh, Scotland. His short stories, articles and
poems have been published widely in anthologies and journals both at home and
abroad. His most recent books are Librettos
for the Black Madonna (White Adder Press, Scotland, 2011); The Worcester Fragments (Original Plus
Press, England, 2013); The Loveliest Vein
of Our Lives (Poetry Space, England, 2014),
The Fragility of Moths (Bibliotheca
Universalis, Romania, 2014) and Sleeve
Notes (Bibliotheca Universalis, Romania, 2016).
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