| The Burning Bush (Spring 2000) Review by Kevin Higgins of Adrian Rice's The Mason's Tongue The Mason's Tongue published by Abbey Press (63pp �8.95) is a beautifully produced collection of poems by Adrian Rice. In the magically surreal title poem Rice displays a definite way with language, "Bewildered, and seized with sudden dread, / He let the tongue flop to the sand, / Then scooped it back up with his spade / And flung it out across the waves. / Yet, though hushed upon the ocean bed, / The tongue's words lapped about his head: / / Go tell all the brethren / There is no answer where I have gone, / No answer comes from Jah-Bul-On." Similarly in 'The Drowning' his words match his imagination. "The sea made mouths at us all night", is one of those lines, which stops you in your tracks. He explores metaphysical themes without a hint of the wish-washy 'spirituality', which is now so ridiculously fashionable. In this sense he has more in common with a poet such as R.S. Thomas than with the rather woolly ethereal musing of some contemporary poets who typically pepper their collections with quotations from Rilke. However the most interesting feature of Adrian Rice's poetry is his potential as a satirist, In poems such as 'The Musicians' Union' and 'The Dummy Fluter' he ridicules the lumpen defenders of 'God and Ulster' who increasingly dominate Orange marching bands, "On hands and on arms, they're tattooed to a man, / With slogans and symbols for today and tomorrow / from the tattoo-template of their forefathers' skin: / There's a covenant signed with both God and Ulster; / UDA, UVF, No Surrender - and Mother, / And crimson hearts punctured by arrows". In 'Handing Over the Reins' his target is the smiley-faced bigotry of one of those pastors of the Free Presbyterian / KKK variety. In this age of so much self-indulgent personal poetry it is refreshing to read poems like these, poems which engage with the outside world, poems with clear opinions in them. It will be interesting to see if he develops as a satirical poet because the 'new' Northern Ireland is likely to provide a satirist with plenty of ammunition, if you'll excuse that rather unfortunate expression. If I was to make a serious criticism it would be that some of Rice's shorter poems tend to be rather limp. 'Gable End' and 'Biblical Teaching On the Devil' definitely fall into this category. But 'Green Light', on the other hand, is spot on, "Crouching like a fada / On top of a hill, / A dark figure / Watches for a signal." |
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