Surfacing by William Park published by Spike Press. Reviewed by Jane Marsh Assistant editor of Neon Highway www.neonhighway.co.uk April 2006 The phrase that opens this book is one by the film maker, Andrey Tarkovsky, �The image is not a certain meaning�but an entire world reflected as in a drop of water.� This means you have to look beyond the exterior, deeper, further until you finally see something, the drop of water begins to exude a colour, a shadow, a shape, you see something move, the image takes form and you realise that you are beginning to create your own world. It�s not just a drop of water anymore, it has become an entire universe of its own and indeed for any minute insect it would be. It is only our own self awareness and our physique as so called �large distinct beings� that distances us from this magic that continually surrounds us. We can create with our minds, look further and beyond until we become in touch with our surroundings on a more profound level. It is possible for all of us to do this if we take the time. Now I�m not particularly spiritual. I�m not into what Alice describes as �aiming to become holistic�. I�m more of the Aristotle school. I carry this banner with pride unlike my chief Platonist editor who lectures me on the benefits of good health, always trying to stop me from smoking, eating donuts and drinking gallons of coffee. I must admit that I disagree with the spiritual life. I believe that we are all just like dust, ephemeral and useless in any way to benefiting this planet. The sooner we all become extinct the better as far as I am concerned. However, one thing that I do have is visions. This only happens to me if I�m reminded of something that links to something in my past that was of a particular significance to me. For instance, I tripped up the other day only to find that a piece of glass had embedded itself in the palm of my hand. I felt kind of strange, had to sit down and then I had this vision. It took me way back to my childhood where the same image was brought back to me once again, only this was more threatening, I had been pushed. It was a rather nasty accident as I fell down a flight of steps. In fact it was the incident that gave me a fetish for 1940s shoes as when I fell I hit my head against the heel of an original 1940s shoe, corroded from years of being half buried in the earth but there it was sticking up out of the ground, the heel a black chunky stalk, curved and perfectly preserved. When I finally went back to the spot and dug it out of ground, I found it had a clasp at the front and had been made from black silk. That was it, my fetish firmly installed. I now have over two hundred pairs! But what I am trying to say was that when that happened I also cut my hand on some glass. It was a nasty cut but I forgot the cut because I was more aware of my head hitting the heel of the shoe therefore the pain in my hand subsided. It was my first big lesson in problem solving. If you have a problem the next one will wipe the previous one out; temporarily of course but the previous one will still be there, it will just be a while before those emotions and connections begin to surface. However this is how it is in life, our connections and sensitivity I feel is generally all linked to something else, our visions and feelings always surfacing a some point or another. The question is how do we allow ourselves to surface? Do we do it thoughtlessly or do we create something with it something to make people think? Surfacing by William Park explores the silences linking our consciousness to the past and present both at the same time. You are defined by silence and slowness as a branch releases leaves or clouds as they pass renew light. Stanzas are well defined and minimal. The key word is �image� which takes front stage, poems jump from first person to second person and use of traditional poetry techniques pull the reader into another world at times, the pace changing from slow to top speed, the rhythm pushed faster then faster via alliteration, symbol and use of diction. Found blood on my shirt, Fresh from my finger, Bled into Boots and searched For plasters, the answer, avoided The appearance of truth. There is a sense of moving from one place to another as if being transported, from tranquillity as in Angel to The Damned, themes slowly changing bounding from urban punk, mystical then onto fairytale and intimate lives. What moans in its dream? You wake�� In the cottage you�ve chosen as an escape What I enjoy is Park�s painterly use of language. The images are so often depicted vividly on canvas, a surreal school. You find yourself dazzled by rivers of lamps, a glass screen of still water. Personification is witty and sometimes eerie. Face down in the puddle, dead. All year the railway line is empty. Sexuality not unusually geared away from: The mountain In the rear- View But I feel it is mainly Park�s use of metaphor allowing one image to fold into the other effortlessly and always something slightly sinister to remind the reader of the surreal undertones, at times Damian Hurst and Rouseau together working on collaborations. �The wallpaper was stretched skin A maze of raised burns. The carpet, tiger-orange, Dimmed as night fell. Nature is magnified reminding us of decay and rebirth linking the idea of birth and death, fertility and the idea of things being baron, without life, violent and primeval undertones. Blackberries hung like clumps of blood There were leaves: Amputated tongues One green in death And all the time there is the ongoing relationship of a man and a woman unsure but always thinking and observing. There is a sadness but also hope. We were thinking of the future Or what the present had become At times we are plunged back to our childhood. Now the children step inside, rising, And the town spreads In a wizards cloak of light � References to Christianity thread through the poems in a chagall like way at the same time linking the past reminding us of the present. �..Once a famine made our people weak and we were prey to government. So we armed, and are at war. and also a sense of ritual and sacrifice. Until night, car headlights Raising white crosses in the dusk. I�ve had Surfacing for about four months now. It is well worth reading. I have placed it on my bookshelf underneath a 1940s shoe! All best wishes. Jane Marsh. Surfacing ISBN 0 9518978 7 X By William Park Spike Press C/O Liver House, 96 Bold Street, Liverpool L1 4HY �5.99 |