Ektachrome
he left me
a ring
of partial glimpses
he left me
a ring
of partial glimpses
//
pellucid Pelasgia
partial coinage
of a man-made image
//
partial coinage
of a man-made image
//
or something like this
tangible language, this audible curve,
this emotionese
//
the way I see it
I was left
to translate him
tangible language, this audible curve,
this emotionese
//
the way I see it
I was left
to translate him
//
man takes a woman
on a wedding trip
before I was born
on a wedding trip
before I was born
//
last look upon home
the village square, the field,
family harvest of exile
//
last look upon home
the village square, the field,
family harvest of exile
//
I lift his disembodied eye
to my eye, find no archive
of anecdota but shed and shadow
to my eye, find no archive
of anecdota but shed and shadow
//
recognize this slide, Cézannesque
basket of fruit, dappled wall
I plucked this fruit, too
basket of fruit, dappled wall
I plucked this fruit, too
//
how to square my sepia-toned 1980s
pastoral with 1960s Kodachrome
tray of glass-bottled sodas, metal ashcan
how to square my sepia-toned 1980s
pastoral with 1960s Kodachrome
tray of glass-bottled sodas, metal ashcan
//
his markers of industry,
what I artfully sought
to leave out of frame
//
apple, o apple of my eye,
he called me
matia mou, you are my eyes--
//
his markers of industry,
what I artfully sought
to leave out of frame
//
apple, o apple of my eye,
he called me
matia mou, you are my eyes--
//
why this slide?
I pressed him,
slides are better, they last
//
I pressed him,
slides are better, they last
//
last, little pools of memory
in this cold water
we trickle
over
in this cold water
we trickle
over
Dear V, I'm sorry it's been hard/frustrating sending this one out. Oh, publication! So frustrating in general, and probably deserving of its own separate thread/conversation. I'm inclined to say this poem just hasn't found the right editor yet - because I find it beautiful and intriguing. It is mysterious, yes, but a) I love mystery and b) it's a signature part of your work, I think. In terms of how the poem is received - can only speak for myself, obviously! - I read it several times, loving the language immediately, and the form, too, the tercets separated by slashes which feel like they mimic the way the speaker receives the information/memory/history from the poem's "him" (I understood this as the speaker's father) - in pieces, trying to resolve and understand the gaps and differences between her knowledge of family history and landscapes and her father's. Her effort to know him, to "translate" him. I thought of a suggestion that I'm not sure I actually like, but I'm going to throw it out to see what others think - and because you mentioned the difficulties in getting this one published. I did have to read a couple of times to sort out some basics about the poem - specifically, the relationship between the speaker and "he/him." I don't mind that - and I think beginning in a more fluid space of not-knowing works for this poem. But I do wonder what the poem would be like if the stanzas that spell out this relationship more clearly were moved to the beginning. For example, what about beginning with "man takes a woman/on a wedding trip"? I think that might give the reader a firmer place to stand in terms of the poem's basic set-up, especially if it were followed fairly closely by the "last look upon home" stanza and the stanza with the line "I plucked this fruit, too." That might go further towards establishing those basic relationships (between people and places) earlier in the poem... but this depends on what you are comfortable with and what you want the reader to know up front. I'll be curious to read other comments on this one and to see what suggestions people come up with. I can see, and feel, why this poem is an important one to you. Thank you for sharing it here.
ReplyDeleteVasiliki, I just love this poem's "container" -- the way you feed us a stanza at a time, those double slashes our swallows!
ReplyDeleteThis poem has your signature compression and sense of word-play. So many great lines -- especially love the stanza about finding "no archive/of anecdota but shed and shadow"! And the apple stanza!
I won't lie -- this poem makes me work! I am not completely clear who "he" is -- father? grandfather? I am unclear on the glass-bottled sodas, metal ashcan (those are "his" markers of industry? Did "he" make apple soda?) and your "sepia-toned 1980s pastoral" -- did you return to the village and make photographs in the 80s?
I would have to say I agree with Kasey on possibly shifting stanzas around a bit... I tinkered with an attempt below.
Ektachrome
the way I see it
I was left
to translate him
//
pellucid Pelasgia
partial coinage
of a man-made image
//
man takes a woman
on a wedding trip
before I was born
//
last look upon home...
etc.
I am very curious what the others will say about moving stanzas around, too...and how the idea hits you, Vasiliki.
I love the way the second-to-last stanza loops into the last with the word "last". I also love the little pools of memory -- they could be the slides or the eyes? I am not sure what the cold water/we trickle/over is referring to -- but I love it! Makes me think of a tray in a darkroom -- or the earth's oceans.
Thanks, Vasiliki! Looking forward to hearing the feedback of others!
Hi Vasiliki,
ReplyDeleteThanks for this lovely work. So much that I savored: the tercets and slashes (reminding me of the click and instantaneous-ness of photography), the kodak references that pin me in a period of time, the matia mou stanza, "emotionese," "no archive of anecdota but shed and shadow"... and much more.
I like the idea put forth above of moving the stanzas around, unless that compromises your vision. I think the reader would arrive at the same place as she does with the current order, but we might have a few more breadcrumbs to get us there.
I got hung up in a few places: the cold water at the end. I was also thinking darkroom trays, but then I wondered if slides also get developed in trays, not sure about that. Also that final syntax - 'in this cold water / we trickle / over' - I am still trying to work out how we are trickling over the water, as opposed to the water trickling over something, or us. Or maybe the water is being trickled over something, but the object is absent... not sure. I also struggled with the tray of glass bottles and ashcan. Did he own a bar? The fact that he chose to photograph those things seems to hold a lot of meaning for the speaker, but I wasn't sure what it was.
Thanks for the poem!!
Hi Vasiliki, Sorry to be chiming in late! This is a stunning poem. Like others, I think the tercets are lovely and // work really well to offset each moment. I adore the mystery in this poem, but think it might be helpful to think about where mystery can be played up and where it might be helpful to have slightly more explicit narrative threads. As a reader, I wonder--what is being remembered (or only partially so?). I sense that there is a dramatic moment (or moments), but I'm not entirely sure. Ways of seeing, cameras, and exposure (of memory and actual photographic exposure) seem key here. But then I think I was also curious about the two representational modes (painting with Cezanne and photography with the Kodiak camera). I found myself wondering if this poem is about visual art in general (maybe too broad given the sparseness of the poem? Not sure). One suggestion, too, is to use the title to do some work and I had to look up “Ektachrome.” I don’t think needing to look something up is a bad thing at all (to be clear), but since the poem is more abstract a title that guides the reader might be helpful. Something like “sepia-toned pastoral,” maybe? Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your valuable insights, everyone!
ReplyDelete