Thanks, Christina, I'm so glad to be communicating....you picked up
everything in the poem of value.....a very valuable crit. and one I'm saving
and am going to study......PS Malabu's are those large surf boards. Philip


>From: Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: new submission - Sons of the Surf
>Date: Sun, 27 Oct 2002 03:14:27 EST
>
>Phil, I'm reading this bleary-eyed, over the first cuppa.  I've only read
>it
>once but my first, semi-conscious reaction is that it's stunning.  I'm
>going
>to have a proper look now and I'll pop thoughts in with the text but wanted
>you to know how I feel before 'thinking' about what you've written.
>bw
>christina
>
>
> >
> >       Sons of the Surf
> >
> >
> > Proud as a damson - Finistral Bay ***  this line makes me laugh: the
>idea
> > that damsons are proud.  It's quirky and draws me into the poem very
>well.
> > high on lawns and Michaelmas daisy ***  I like the double meaning of
>high
> > given by the next line.
> > her links and shales stiff with valerian ***  valerian is such a lovely
> > choice because it's used as a sedative to soothe and calm the nervous
> > system.  I like the contrast between stiffness and valerian.  Because
>its
> > used to aid sleep it's a wonderful way to introduce a dreamlike quality
>to
> > the poem.  It even makes you think of the Emperor Valerian and that
> > connects with the ancient youths.  MIchaelmas daisy triggers lots of
>strong
> > thoughts too.
> > and ancient youths, expectant
> > as new-laid mothers.  ***  Love this chicken and egg thought.  Then it
>has
> > an underlying sexual association too that feels very strong and
> > sub-conscious.
> >
> > Surf is not up - there are tales though
> > ebbing, dreams for the tongue  ***  dreams for the tongue!  Delicious.
> > honed and waxed and sun-turned  ***  and lovely sounds:
> > tongue/honed/sun-turned.
> > versions of office block waves
> > tsunamis of the third, maybe fourth, kind
> > tunnels through foam
> > tunnels through time
> > tunnels home.  *** and I like the repetition bringing us home via time:
> > moving forward by moving backwards, which seems to be what the poem's
> > doing.  Reminds me of the underground too: you either dream or have
> > nightmares (doubt that's what you intended but it's there for me).
> >
> > The tellerman dips his voice  ***  Tellerman - argh - lovely.  What a
>word
> > in the mouth.  Makes me think of Telemann too, though I doubt that's
> > intentional since it's only the idea of music that seems to connect to
>the
> > poem.
> > paddling the tale of the cool death
> > of one who downed in undercurrent  ***  typo: drowned?
> > and, no surface attainable,
> > had scratched on his Malabu  ***  don't understand: what's a Malabu?
> > the fingernail epitaph  *** like this very much, and the next line
> >
> > sonofabitch
> >
> >
> > Skylarks pounder the cliffwalk air
> > while unbuttoned boys dig like zips  ***  unbuttoned boys is another
> > lovely, complex image
> > in the firm flesh of wet sand, and squeal.
> >
> > Then to the camper vans, dim lights ***  isn't 'camper vans' delicious
>in
> > the mouth too:-)
> > damp sleeping bags  ***  and 'damp'
> > fruit, fruit salad.  *** and the beautiful last line taking us right
>back
> >
>
>


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