Wednesday, July 10, 2013

#NYCPOETRYFESTIVAL - UndergroundBooks Invades Governor's Island

Meet us for a weekend of love and books July 27th-28th on Governor's Island. Poetry and good spirits. Wear your fondest expression. 

CHECK OUT THE FULL LINE UP AT :

http://poetrysocietyny.org/new-york-city-poetry-festival/nycpf-2013/1052-2/

We'll be hosting the 11:30 spot at THE WHITE HORSE  on Saturday. Don't be afraid to talk to our poets, have them pose for pictures. Do haggle, if you don't we consider it an insult.

On Saturday at the same hour we'll be taking over The Browning Society's brunch. Nudity, verse, and more.



Underground Books has been making street books since 1997. Trapped in the Subconsicous somewhere downstairs, the printers ink still runs. We aim to aim it. Based in New York City, Houston, Virginia, and Gothenburg, we aim to please,poetry,please,poetry,please,poetry please we say, Publishing Artists on the Fringe, Check out all of our new original poetry manuscripts athttp://www.undergroundbooks.org and join the subterranean poetry scene of your mind 2013.

posponing the apocalypse :)
                                                                                                               you're welcome. 


A review of Thus Virginia Passes

Thus Virginia Passes

by James Browning Kepple (pretend Genius press) 
ISBN 978-0-9852133-2-9 review by Raewyn Alexander


  
The title put me in mind of someone on a train, travelling 
through the state of Virginia and watching it flow by the 
locomotive until that particular landscape was gone.
 Intrigued, but mistaken, I read at first to find out why 
this book was titled this way and also, because I've long 
enjoyed the poetry of this inventive, original and startling 
young writer. We've discussed writing and each others work 
online for many years, as colleagues, and devotees of literature.

Kepple follows in the tradition of language poets, taking English 
or really, American and making of it what he wishes. He reclaims 
language as an individual, to the extent that some readers with 
pedantic leanings may be shocked or horrified. This upset is 
calculated and focussed for the most part, creating a kind of 
blueprint for a new, more hopeful way of life, we could say. 
Kepple's talent is also such that he persuades the reader to 
keep on, entertainment ensues amongst other pleasures as 
rich, engaging and varied as anyone could wish, even if 
sometimes this collection is overwhelming or wildly odd.

The poetry is arranged into three parts. The poems mainly
 flow on one from the other without the end of the page
 being taken up with white space, after each piece. Where 
white page space appears it adds to the meaning or tone 
of the poem, rather than standing as a long-held and 
rather extravagant convention of traditional formatting. 

The introduction by Kim Goransson warns the reader this 
collection could seem like too much at times. But I, for 
the most part, delighted in how Kepple discards an overly 
precious approach to poetry, and instead relishes the 
chance to allow the appearance of the written word to 
work in curious, revolutionary ways, while also paying
 respect to language. Genuine humanity is evident in
 this verse and a startlingly recognisable, flawed appearance, 
without a trace of laziness or pretense. (Although laziness 
and pretense do exist in fact, and these poems do make 
that clear, with much else besides). 

There were times however when I felt lost, disturbed 
and horribly alone, then the writing drew me back to a
 place of relative safety or at least, familiarity so I felt I 
could continue in good heart. Drama and particularly 
tragedy carries many verses well.

Word-play, once a reader realises it's there, is at times 
truly hilarious, or rather thought-provoking and 
undercuts many assumptions, with elan.


'I tell her I'm hungry
ask, or is that to caveman'


                                   - from The Lost Art of Seduction


This maintains a double meaning, a sense of what the 
line would mean with 'too' and continues a persuasive 
thrust, which is quite possibly to get some food from 
this girl, from her 'to caveman', also by the way cleverly 
admitting his bluntness, and negating simplicity. Subtly 
shocking syntax also destroying the idea that people 
who cannot spell 'correctly' or use grammar 'properly' 
are stupid, since he's using those 'errors' to be truly 
clever, subtle and amusing.

Sometimes Kepple uses the word its to show something 
belongs to something else more than it is, could ever 
possibly explain.


'but its cold behind iron, and I need you to forge
for its trivial us in such assertions'


                                      - from I just got out of jail baby


He does this with interchanging 'your' and you're' and also, 
'then' and 'than' as well, along with other small, often 
taken-for-granted words which are sprinkled about, a 
garnish of diversion or a twist to cause reflection; a 
swerve in meaning. But occasionally it seems the mis-spellings 
are to show a kind of a person, a character, there is no subtle 
word play I can figure.


'and I pass her up wishing I wasnt so cheap
I suppose its a matter of money these encounters,'


                                    - from occidental street love


My first impression of the book, after galloping through
 it reading the collection entirely in three days was, 
it was sexy. Not that there is anything much erotic in 
the words themselves to any large degree, even if some 
intimacy is mentioned, but the maturity, strength and 
intelligence inherent in this poetry, along with its wry 
and also blatant humour impressed me so much. Other 
saphiosexual readers could find this work affects them 
the same way, intelligence can be so stirring. 

An exhilarating sense of a real person fully engaged with 
language and what it can do for them also emerges, a man 
revealing himself and risking hurt, then also, Kepple reveals 
so much while he obscures himself in some kind of camouflage 
too. This poetry is a statement about the need to disguise 
one's intelligence in these times, perhaps, but showing off 
to those who 'get it', and also including them? There's some 
camaraderie involved here. 

TVP got to me. Every time I thought I could define it, the 
writing slipped into another gear, or changed its tone and 
diversionary tactics, or just enthralled me. A collection with
 more to it than what appears at first. The alarming last section 
certainly creates various brain storms and mind fevers.
 My eyes wide with something close to terror by the end, 
(which as it happens is not quite the finish at all, another 
surprise appears even there). 

Extreme states are going out of fashion in art, we could say,
 except for extreme price tags on fine art or what we could 
call cheek, (in American they say, sass).We are told in 
everyday life, in countless often banal ways to calm down 
and carry on, to contemplate the intellectual rather than 
indulge the emotional, and to divide ourselves into easily 
recognisable groups for familiarity and comfort. This all 
subtly done through the way art is presented as an elite 
practise, and in its contemporary content being cynically 
clear or ironically observed, often expensive and for only
 the highly educated, and therefore quite exclusionary. 
Some mystery permissible as long as it is so sophisticated 
it has to be accepted as true, without explanations dared 
to be asked for. Thus Virginia Passes as a collection does 
pay some respect to that mindset, it has wisdom and is of
this time, (despite some curiously old-fashioned turns of 
phrase), while the writing also determines we need more 
than coralling or discipline, more than a society of knowing 
winks and nods, more than brutality dressed in the finest 
manner to make it seem acceptable. We need to feel deeply 
and explore our existence fearlessly in order to truly, best
 live and learn, much of Kepple's writing appears to show 
this, convincingly. 

The poetry is not as distancing and obtuse as some other 
recent verse by more traditional or less risky poets, it does
 not pretend it's from somewhere unattainable for most 
people. Although so idiosyncratic at times it does appear 
unfathomable on first reading in places, I later decided it
 was like a wild animal sporting and celebrating itself, 
beautifully, for its own sake, in places which suit the
 particular topic or tone.

I found Kepple eskewing 'the' was often annoying or 
unnecessary, although this telegramesque, truncated 
language suits the break-neck pace of some of his work.
 This device does eventually appear as his genuine voice 
too, but sometimes the omission distracts from some 
beautiful, unexpected line which follows.


'a troubled troubador

lashed about

on train seat

she can walk

like fallen

plastic on my

feet'


                                    - from train poem #43


Possibly however, that's one of his points, beauty exists 
obscured by the furious speed we seem to think we are 
going, time poor and distracted.

Kepple's writing sweeps along with grand gestures and 
surprising, momentous images too, often illustrating 
contemporary issues along with time-tested, vital
concerns. The symbolism in some poetry could take a 
reader many readings and some research to understand, 
while on the surface there's a definite narrative thread 
as well, satisfying to an extent.


'We need incensed sacrifice and summonings to protect us
For the earth has grown weary of our consumptive material
                    identity,

It is past time that its fruits spiritual will go stolen unnoticed,'



                                     - from A Prelude to Ophiuchus


Differently sized type-faces, some tricky word placements, 
three sections called in order of appearance - Book I:
 Thus Virginia Passes, Book II: Harlem Blues, Book III: Herald,
 (the most experimental verse), and no page numbers, 
we're reminded throughout that this is not any usual
 book of poetry. That even if it does echo some other 
writers' allusions and literary times past, in some regard. 

The unexpected in a tailor-made, avant-garde suit, if I had
 to explain Thus Virginia Passes in an image. Daring, 
considered, gloriously individual and with many twists,
 turns and puzzles, this first major collection by 
James Browning Kepple is recommended. I must admire 
his bravery, quite apart from his obvious talent and labour. 
We need more writers prepared to register publicly who 
they really are along with a plea for privacy and respect, 
while at the same time saying something else entirely. 
Then we remember what matters and grow inspired to
 stretch ourselves to trust in our own experience and
 intelligence, our own feelings.


Words carefully chosen in the best order, indeed.



I'm happiest most when
starving unconcerned
and building fires, do not
monitor me please