NEIL
LEADBEATER Reviews
The Market Wonders by Susan Briante
(Ahsahta Press, Boise,
Idaho, 2016)
Author, essayist,
activist, translator and poet, Susan Briante is an associate professor of
Creative Writing and English at the University of Arizona. From 1991 to 1997
she lived in Mexico City working as a journalist for the magazines Artes de
México and Mandorla. She has received grants
and awards from the Atlantic Monthly, the MacDowell Colony, the Academy
of American Poets, and the US-Mexico Fund for Culture. As well as being the
author of two chapbooks and three books of poetry to date, she writes essays on
documentary poetics and on the relationship between place and cultural memory.
The Market Wonders is a book about economics
and the way in which it impinges on every aspect of society. It permeates the
way we live. It is also a book about control and obsession. Many of the poems
in this collection are titled according to the closing numbers of the Dow Jones
Industrial Average. This is the extent to which these all-important numbers
take center stage. The book charts the economic crisis and the crisis as lived
experience, wage stagnation, loss of jobs, loss of homes, etc.
From 2009 to 2011 Briante
recorded the closing numbers of the Dow and put the number into Project
Gutenberg, Bartlett’s quotations and various search engines, letting the
numbers lead her to lines from several sources such as Paradise Lost, The
Odyssey, the Book of Revelation or fairy tales in which counting or
accounting played a role and used them as starting points for her poems.
To a large extent the
book is structured by numbers. Longer prose pieces open and close the
collection while poems titled by date and the closing number of the Dow are
contained within three distinct sections of the book. The first set is a
compilation of numbers and biblical references and centers around the pain of
miscarriage. The second set builds on the imagery of trees, references to
Gertrude Stein, drought and the coming of a new baby. The final set centers
around the birth of a baby daughter, drones, the atrocities of war and the
constant flooding of breaking news.
These seemingly random
thoughts and images allow the reader to connect with the poem on several
different levels at the same time. In some sections a text runs along the
bottom of the page which is redolent of the breaking news that streams across
our television screens all day long. These texts connect to a greater or lesser
extent with the poem on the page but also make up a running story if followed
through from page to page to their conclusion. Some readers may consider this
to be a needless distraction that does not add anything to the text while
others may find the experience an interesting and absorbing one that mirrors
the age in which we live.
In certain poems such as The
Market is a Parasite that Looks Like a Nest, the Market is personified. It
“wonders where the soul goes” and “worries he is nothing but a pile of stones
when he feels so much / inside of him slipping in and out of place.”
In the opening poem, Towards
a Poetics of the Dow, Briante writes:
Poems should evidence some degree of control, but poets should be a
little volatile. The poem is a high-risk investment, a long-term commitment.
Like a big dirty city, it should make you feel
a little uncomfortable.
This book does just that.
It is also wide-ranging in its subject matter with references to political
events both at home and abroad, military deployment, racial tension, violence, the
effects of economic recession and a brief history of childhood insurance.
In an interview with
Whitney Kerutis, Briante makes the point that “[the] American economy determines
value through accounting and recording. We monitor the rise and fall of certain
stocks or the values of certain sectors of the economy. We base our
understanding of our economic (and in many ways “national”) health on certain
numbers and indices. That’s a choice. It’s not natural. The nation of Bhutan,
for example, tracks Gross National Happiness instead of Gross Domestic Product.
I wanted the book to highlight that obsession with accounting and documenting,
and recording, as well as to use my life experience as another point of data
for tracking the effects of those values.”
This collection is
peopled with trees. Scattered throughout the text, they come in many forms and
descriptions. There are desert trees, Texas trees, Old World trees, the Bodhi
tree, the jacaranda, buttonwood, sycamore, elm and, most especially, the black
walnut tree which is mentioned more than any of the others. They are our
silent, ever-present witnesses who have their own cycle of growth and decay. Unlike the market, the cycle is predictable,
it follows a known and well-travelled course. The trees are a constant presence
before us. Briante often refers to their leaves as being golden in the fall.
Gold, too, is often viewed as a safe haven in times of economic recession.
These poems inhabit a
desolate place. The seasons they are set in are either autumn or winter, the
times they move through are momentous. They were written at a time of national
economic crisis, a time that was followed by events such as the Arab Spring,
the Deepwater Horizon oil spill and Black Lives Matter. Running in parallel
with this are autobiographical accounts that revolve around house purchase,
displacement, miscarriage, sadness and loss. Human frailty and vulnerability
are never far from the surface. On the positive side, these themes are
counterbalanced by the happiness of the birth of a daughter, marriage and a
house move.
Briante is fond of
invoking a sense of the Trinity in her poems. The threefold litany of firms: Bank
of America, Merck, Pfizer, followed a few lines later by 3M, Alcoa, AT
& T in one poem and Merck, Microsoft, Pfizer in another, attest
to the way in which we have come to imbue corporate America with misplaced
religious awe. The threefold schemata is carried through into other narratives
as well: DIY, DIY, DIY and I default, I default, I default and
also into nature itself: jacaranda, jacaranda, jacaranda and in a
another poem: mimosa, magnolia, osage orange……..wood duck, gadwall, northern
pintail…….hooded merganser, cooper’s hawk, northern harrier. Briante’s obsession with numbers is one of the
themes that is at the heart of this collection.
Credit should be given to
the Quemadura Design Studio for the book cover that manages to convey several
of the themes in the book. The airborne plastic bag at the mercy of the wind
speaks of the volatility of the retail sector. The red lettering on the bag,
which says “THANK YOU” suggests that the retailers are expressing their thanks
for the goods that have been purchased but the bag, in this event, is empty.
Turn the book around and you will discover the figure of a man walking on air.
Somewhere among the thin wisps of cloud in an otherwise blue sky there is a
road, a stoplight and a passing car. The cover gives us a feeling of displacement,
of being at the mercy of the elements against a backdrop of constantly changing
clouds. The title of the book and its
author is positioned at an angle rather in the manner of a name being stamped
on a product.
Credit should also be
given to Janet Holmes, the Director at Ahsahta Press, for the book design which
presented its own challenges with the positioning of continuous text streaming
along the bottom of some of the pages to enable readers to engage with the poem
on the page and also with the text as it streamed throughout the book.
This is an adventurous
book that charts new territory. In Briante’s own words:
I wish more poets would write about money.
*****
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 books include 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), Sleeve
Notes (Bibliotheca Universalis, Romania, 2016) and Finding the River Horse (Littoral Press, England, 2017).
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