{"id":11884,"date":"2020-11-16T14:25:37","date_gmt":"2020-11-16T13:25:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11884"},"modified":"2020-11-16T16:10:50","modified_gmt":"2020-11-16T15:10:50","slug":"natural-selection-an-essay-on-carmine-starninos-dirty-words-selected-poems-by-jim-johnstone","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11884","title":{"rendered":"Natural Selection<\/strong> | an essay on Carmine Starnino’s Dirty Words: Selected Poems<\/em><\/strong> by Jim Johnstone"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

For those who are interested in Canadian poetry but have yet to investigate it seriously, Carmine Starnino’s\u00a0<\/i>Dirty Words\u00a0offers a portal into the career of one of Canada’s finest craftsmen.<\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Natural Selection<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

Carmine Starnino, <\/span>Dirty Words:\u00a0<\/i><\/span>Gaspereau Press, 2020<\/span><\/p>\n

Volumes of selected poetry are double-edged propositions. On one hand, they\u2019ve been known to consolidate reputations, pulling together a poet\u2019s best work to extend readership. On the other, such collections tell the truth, and if a poet\u2019s greatest hits aren\u2019t pleasing to the ear, this is where readers will notice. Walk into any used bookstore in Canada and you\u2019ll find examples on both ends of the spectrum. For every Irving Layton there\u2019s a John Robert Colombo, or even late-Layton, who diluted his masterwork, <\/span>A Red Carpet for the<\/i><\/span> Sun<\/i><\/span>, to produce several lesser versions of his selected poems in the 1970s and 1980s.<\/span><\/p>\n

Unsurprisingly, newer generations of Canadian poets continue to make career defining statements, and the end of the 2010s brought more contenders peddling selected \/ collected volumes than ever before. Glancing at my bookshelf Gary Barwin, Michael Harris, Don McKay, Daphne Marlatt, Jay MillAr, A.F. Moritz, Robyn Sarah, and Phyllis Webb have all released books with a prominent spine in recent years, and that\u2019s a random sampling dependent on my reading habits alone. Different organizational strategies are on offer in this cohort: some are niche-specific, such as the gathering of M. Travis Lane\u2019s long poems in <\/span>The Witch of the Inner Wood<\/i><\/span>. Others arrange poems by era (Fred Wah\u2019s <\/span>Scree: The Collected Earlier Poems<\/i><\/span>); thematically (Paul Vermeersch\u2019s <\/span>Shared Universe<\/i><\/span>); or more impressionistically (bill bissett\u2019s <\/span>breth<\/i><\/span>). Regardless of style or selling point, it\u2019s impossible to ignore that one of Canada\u2019s current literary trends is an intensifying self-canonization. <\/span><\/p>\n

The newest addition to this section of my bookshelf is Carmine Starnino\u2019s <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span>. Starnino, a Montreal-based poet, critic, and editor, has been a mainstay in Canadian letters for well over twenty years, and his selected pulls poems from five full-length books. <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span> is an elemental entry among its ilk, chronologically arranged with no introductory essay, no endnotes, and no new poems. The book is beautifully produced by Gaspereau Press, which bears mention since the black dust jacket, orange typeface, and stark design lend it a matter-of-fact, Johnny Cash stage wardrobe kind of feel. In sum, the presentation suggests a selected that banks on its poems\u2014either they stand the test of time or they don\u2019t, and the author is willing to bet on himself rather than try to re-write history.<\/span><\/p>\n

All of which makes sense, given that Starnino\u2019s reputation precedes him. An incisive critic, Starnino has positioned himself as a tastemaker who isn\u2019t shy about making value judgements or sharing his poetic sensibilities. His era-defining anthology, <\/span>The New Canon<\/i><\/span>, made waves when it was published in 2005, and is still the most rigorous compilation of Canadian poetry published in the new century. But Starnino\u2019s work as an editor and critic\u2014borne of a love of the art, and picking up where essayists like Eric Ormsby and David Solway left off\u2014has to some extent coloured the reception of everything else he\u2019s done. This includes his poetry, which has been lauded for its \u201cwit and nuance\u201d (Abby Paige), \u201crelishing puns\u201d (George Elliott Clarke), and being \u201cemotionally compelling\u201d (David Godkin), but has also been judged \u201cboring\u201d (Jacob Bachinger), or worse, in a conspicuous review by Lynn Crosbie, \u201cweak and gutless.\u201d Both the Bachinger and Crosbie quotes come from articles that reference Starnino\u2019s critical practise, illustrating how his work in multiple genres can be conflated, or at least produce bias. <\/span><\/p>\n

So is Starnino the heavy-handed, conservative poet his naysayers accuse him of being, or does he \u201cput his creative money where his critical mouth is\u201d (to cite another review, by Paul Vermeersch)? The answer lies in his development as a writer, which <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span> is well suited to track. As one would expect, the book starts slowly, glossing Starnino\u2019s first two collections, <\/span>The New World<\/i><\/span> and <\/span>Credo<\/i><\/span>, both of which are written in a straightforward, plainspoken style. Workman-like poems that deal with religion and domestic life dominate these books thematically, while the poet finds his emotional footing writing about family. With that said, many of the poems in <\/span>The New World<\/i><\/span> are tentative, and some feel incomplete, including \u201cAfter Caravaggio\u2019s \u201cThe Crucifixion of Saint Peter,\u201d\u201d which ends just as the action is picking up. <\/span>Credo<\/i><\/span> is the more confident of the two books, and in some ways re-writes <\/span>The New World<\/i><\/span>\u2014letting Starnino stretch out and expand his linguistic range.<\/span><\/p>\n

Though these books bear the hallmarks of first collections, there\u2019s still excellence to be found within. Good thing too, because every selected worth its salt needs a killer opening poem, and <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span> delivers with \u201cThe True Story of My Father\u201d (taken from <\/span>The New World<\/i><\/span>):<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

There were days when I’d catch him
\n<\/span>alone at the kitchen table, lost
\n<\/span>inside some regret, his head
\n<\/span>cradled in his hands like the part<\/span><\/p>\n

of his life that was over, that had
\n<\/span>stopped some time ago. A cigarette
\n<\/span>smoldered beside him, its smoke
\n<\/span>rising from the ashtray like a long<\/span><\/p>\n

held breath, slowly released.
\n<\/span>I would like to say that my mother
\n<\/span>went to him then, leaned over to
\n<\/span>whisper his name in his ear,<\/span><\/p>\n

and he jerked up, a little startled,
\n<\/span>staring around the room in unrecognition,
\n<\/span>having been called back too quickly
\n<\/span>into his life, and looked up<\/span><\/p>\n

at my mother who smiled, running
\n<\/span>her long fingers through his hair,
\n<\/span>slipping them into its dark glistening.
\n<\/span>I would like this, finally, to be<\/span><\/p>\n

a story of love. But the truth is
\n<\/span>my father was an unhappy man,
\n<\/span>his head was heavy, and sometimes
\n<\/span>he rested it in his hands.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This poem epitomizes Starnino\u2019s early style: direct diction, a clear narrative through line, and sound patterns borrowed from everyday speech. What makes it special is the way the poet ratchets up emotion as he builds the portrait of his father: piece-by-piece he layers details (eg. tilted head, cigarette smoke, glistening hair) as if he were seeing his subject for the first time. Starnino\u2019s description is careful, languorous \u2013 he even mimics releasing a held breath when he writes of a cigarette\u2019s smoke \u201crising from the ashtray like a long held breath, slowly released.\u201d The pause before release, accomplished with a simple comma, allows the poet to reset before evoking his mother, and then the idea of the poem \u201cbeing a story of love.\u201d Throughout, internal rhyme stitches Starnino\u2019s thoughts together (\u201cregret\u201d \/\u201d cigarette,\u201d \u201cto him then\u201d \/ \u201cunrecognition\u201d) until the final quatrain locks on his father directly and rhymes \u201cman\u201d with \u201chands.\u201d This is a kind of doubling back, a second look where the poet reconsiders and decides that this <\/span>is<\/i><\/span> love, the love that comes from looking, from wanting to look within the poetically created presence of family.<\/span><\/p>\n

Subtle shifts in syntax and sound are keys to appreciating \u201cThe True Story of My Father.\u201d But by the time we reach Starnino\u2019s third book, <\/span>With English Subtitles<\/i><\/span>, the way the poet handles language is an entirely different proposition. Sprung rhythms, dense swathes of assonance, and sonic flourishes abound, lending the poems in this collection a sense of play that was previously absent in the poet\u2019s work. <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span> begins its selection from <\/span>With English Subtitles<\/i><\/span> with \u201cJunkyard,\u201d a meditation on detritus that serves as a metaphor for life lived. Using W.B. Yeats\u2019s \u201crag and bone shop\u201d as a jumping off point, Starnino presses forward with a series of couplets that revel in the mess of the used and used-up. When he writes of \u201cground freaked with patches of oil, and tree-like, \/ a tall stack of tires black-barked with treads,\u201d it\u2019s as if human innovation has been reclaimed by nature, and in the process what once moved us forward has taken root in the past.<\/span><\/p>\n

There are many outstanding poems in <\/span>With English Subtitles<\/i><\/span>, from \u201cA Brief History of Lanterns\u201d to the spirited series of \u201cWorst-Case Scenario Poems.\u201d It\u2019s the 96-line \u201cOn the Obsolescence of Caphone\u201d that stands out the most, giving Starnino a platform to tie his love of words to the vernacular he was exposed to as a boy. Where poems from <\/span>Credo<\/i><\/span> that deal with inheritance (like \u201cThe True Story of My Grandparents\u201d and \u201cOrnithology\u201d) often approach the subject self-consciously, \u201cOn the Obsolescence of Caphone\u201d confidently shows and tells. Starnino\u2019s poetic heredity is baked-in at this point, as is evident from the poem\u2019s opening stanzas:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Last heard\u2014with a lovely hiss on the “ph”\u2014
\n<\/span>August 1982 during an afternoon game of\u00a0<\/span>scopa
\n<\/i><\/span>turned nasty. And now, missing alongside it,
\n<\/span>are hundreds of slogans, shibboleths, small<\/span><\/p>\n

depth charges of phrasing. Like an island-colony
\n<\/span>of sea-birds screeching our own special cry,
\n<\/span>I recall words all backwater squawk, recall
\n<\/span>the curmudgeonly clunk and jump of their song,<\/span><\/p>\n

a language dying out but always, someplace,
\n<\/span>going on, surfacing in a shoe salesman’s patter
\n<\/span>or a grocer’s chitchat, anywhere conversation’s
\n<\/span>an inventory of old expressions marked down<\/span><\/p>\n

to near-nothing and preserved past all value,
\n<\/span>spoken but never found on a page.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This is heady stuff. From the snaking \u201cs\u201d sound of \u201cslogans,\u201d \u201cshibboleths,\u201d and \u201csmall depth charges\u201d to the open-mouthed \u201ce\u201d of \u201cisland colony,\u201d \u201csea-birds,\u201d \u201cscreeching,\u201d and \u201ccurmudgeonly\u201d that reads like an extended scream, Starnino pays acute attention to the way he layers words. The result is a veritable sonic boom that demands to be read aloud. Of course, the poet is aware of this when he writes that the expressions he\u2019s using are \u201cspoken but never found on a page.\u201d The irony of this statement is that \u201cOn the Obsolescence of Caphone\u201d is a poem about the mutability of language that simultaneously preserves elements of the dialect that Starnino heard growing up. In places it goes further, defining and contextualizing terms that are on the verge of disappearing, and even creating a metaphor for the surprise of linguistic permutation:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

English can, by trumping up a term, pay out<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

something more interesting than you intended
\n<\/span><\/span>\u2014turn a smile into a smirk, make geese clack
\n<\/span><\/span>overhead, or declare a birch’s bole drubbed bare
\n<\/span><\/span>by a storm\u2014immigrant jabber can flush into<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

the open a new word that shivers in the surprise
\n<\/span><\/span>and rush of its arrival, like that spurt of wine
\n<\/span><\/span>my uncle, with a single suck on a plastic hose
\n<\/span><\/span>threaded into a vat, would draw out, splashing,<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

into my glass. You\u00a0<\/span><\/span>capish<\/i><\/span><\/span>?\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

The burst of wine at the end of this excerpt, siphoned using gravity, is a physical manifestation of the rich history of slang. Starnino immediately follows this up with the term \u201ccapish\u201d to illustrate his point \u2013 a Sicilian-American colloquialism for \u201cunderstand,\u201d it\u2019s one of the more easily recognizable referents in the poem. As \u201cOn the Obsolescence of Caphone\u201d moves forward, it continues to unpack the \u201cimmigrant jabber\u201d Starnino has inherited from those around him. That the piece ends with a meditation on the speaker\u2019s identity \u2013 \u201cI\u2019m whatever comes across in translation\u201d \u2013 is no accident, as it\u2019s ultimately a portrait of the artist shaped by natural selection. Multilingual, restless, and keyed-in to regular speech as opposed to metered verse, the poem is one of Starnino\u2019s finest efforts.<\/span><\/p>\n

By the time of <\/span>With English Subtitles<\/i><\/span> (2004) and Starnino\u2019s subsequent release, <\/span>This Way Out<\/i><\/span> (2009), his reputation as a poet was evolving in parallel with his renown as a critic. This was solidified when he released the excellent <\/span>A Lover\u2019s Quarrel<\/i><\/span>, a book of prose that\u2019s notable for both its inimitable style and fierce partisanship. While <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span> is exclusive to Starnino\u2019s poetry, his critical practise is impossible to ignore given that he himself sees it as a key to his identity as a poet. As he explains in an interview conducted by Tim Bowling in <\/span>Contemporary Verse 2<\/i><\/span>:<\/span><\/p>\n

Drummed into me from the start, by David Solway and others, was the idea that a poet needs to master critical prose. Not only is it his duty to explain the art in crisp and accessible ways\u2014plowing his full intelligence into the act\u2014but his very credibility depends on it. Part of what attracts me to prose is that it\u2019s a very unforgiving medium. It can be easy for a poet to gull reviewers and juries into thinking that he or she is a great talent. But there\u2019s no more effective method for exposing someone\u2019s clich\u00e9-ridden thinking than to ask them to write in complete sentences. Prose almost always gives away the poseur; it\u2019s the perfect bullshit-detector. So my identity as poet\u2014the sense of myself as doing something honourable and non-fake\u2014depends on producing the best criticism possible.<\/span><\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Rigorous critical prose, what Starnino calls a \u201cbullshit-detector,\u201d has become a rarity in contemporary CanLit, and there are very few poet-critics (if any) who can match his fluency in both genres. As a critic, Starnino\u2019s arguments are passionate, infused with the intensity and keen eye of someone who\u2019s fully invested in their art. This is something that comes across in his best poems, and brings to mind his metaphor for handling carcasses in \u201cOur Butcher:\u201d \u201cId love to break back the pages of a shank and read all day.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

In addition to contributing to Starnino\u2019s identity as a poet, his critical faculties are an asset when it comes to disassembling a subject. <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span> highlights this aspect of his work, as he often challenges traditional (and even toxic) masculinity. Crack the book\u2019s spine and you\u2019ll find poems that explore tough talk (\u201cLeviathan\u201d), hunting (\u201cThe Grizzly Hunter\u201d), the working-class (\u201cHeavenography\u201d), graffiti (\u201cDoge\u2019s Dungeon\u201d), and even yard work (\u201cThe Manly Arts\u201d). In \u201cPugnax Gives Notice,\u201d Starnino gives the reader a bird\u2019s eye view into the life of a gladiator who pines for normalcy after years as a forum favourite. It\u2019s a mournful piece, as Pugnax \u2013 taken from the Latin for \u201cfond of fighting\u201d \u2013 runs down a list of injured friends in the barracks, \u201clucky returnees of the last hard hacking.\u201d Dreaming of \u201cfashionable clothes,\u201d and \u201ca wife,\u201d Starnino\u2019s protagonist wrestles with the idea that fighting is his only virtue, and though he wants out, he\u2019s bound to his audience by the choices he\u2019s made. That he would settle for \u201cyard work, paint jobs, weekend projects\u201d \u2013 ostensibly lesser manly virtues \u2013 shows how limited his imagination of life beyond the forum extends. In this world, there\u2019s only room for Pugnax to flex his muscles or be flexed upon. <\/span><\/p>\n

The list of tasks that ends \u201cPugnax Gives Notice\u201d chews the scenery in Starnino\u2019s fifth book of poetry, <\/span>Leviathan<\/i><\/span>. Now middle-aged, the poet has firmly settled into penning domestic lyrics haunted by leaf blowers and perfectly manicured lawns. Though these poems are meticulously crafted, the tedium of some of the household tasks leaks in. \u201c[L]eaves \/ win \/ the front yard \/ but pay a price\u201d Starnino writes in \u201cYardwork, Ctd,\u201d where the stakes feel low, and the repetitive nature of the labour at hand is impossible to escape. Better are the poems where metaphor transforms the subject matter, like \u201cShadow Puppet,\u201d where the \u201cpoint is to make \/ something \/ from the laying on \/ of nothing.\u201d This line underscores Starnino\u2019s true poetic strength \u2013 working in language to bring about new associations.<\/span><\/p>\n

Still, none of this will prepare the reader for the final salvo in <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span>. Saving the best for last, Starnino hits the reader with his masterwork, \u201cSan Pellegrino,\u201d written from the perspective of a man musing on his dying father while looking into a glass of water. The first thing readers will notice is that the poet\u2019s thoughts are pulled along by the repetition of words ending in \u201cer,\u201d giving \u201cSan Pellegrino\u201d a distinct sonic signature. While Starnino referred to his father as his \u201ckryptonite\u201d during the online launch for <\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span>, a more accurate metaphor might be a lie detector test since the poems involving Starnino Sr. come across as wholly, and unnervingly true. Mid-poem, the speaker confesses:<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Failure, for my father, was a triumph of style. He was<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

a beautiful loser. Didn\u2019t own a single tool: screwdriver, pliers, hammer,
\n<\/span>whatever.<\/span>When it came to the odd chore, he was a ditherer, a born quitter.
\n<\/span>It raised my mother\u2019s ire.
\n<\/span>Once, on the receiving end of a blistering lecture,
\n<\/span>he handed her the shit-smirched plunger, said: Fine, call the fucking
\n<\/span>plumber.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n


\n<\/span>There\u2019s an echo of Larry Levis\u2019s \u201cMy Story in a Late Style of Fire\u201d here, informing the theme of failure \u2013 to connect, to feign happiness, to communicate \u2013 that runs though the poem. This is reinforced by sound. Even in this short excerpt one can hear the hammering \u201cer\u201d in \u201cscrewdriver,\u201d \u201cpliers,\u201d \u201cquitter,\u201d \u201cire,\u201d \u201clecture,\u201d and \u201cplumber\u201d that propels it forward as if the march of time were an audible property. When Starnino drops these words they <\/span>explode like the \u201csmall depth charges of phrasing\u201d described in \u201cOn the Obsolescence of Caphone\u201d \u2013 <\/span>still, at the close, time can\u2019t be turned back. \u201cWho doesn\u2019t dream of a do-over, life rebooted and in working order?\u201d the speaker intones, knowing that their father\u2019s fate is sealed. It\u2019s a moving conclusion to a poem that synthesizes Starnino\u2019s strengths, exploiting the acoustic quality of language to amplify emotion. <\/span><\/p>\n

Dirty Words<\/i><\/span><\/span> is a timely reminder that its author isn\u2019t just at home among Canada\u2019s best critics, but that he\u2019s also one of the country\u2019s most exacting poets. While volumes of selected poems will no doubt continue to flood CanLit in the near future \u2013 a look into my crystal ball tells me that entries from Steven Heighton, George Murray, and Sue Sinclair are forthcoming \u2013 Starnino\u2019s stands out for its back-to-basics approach and judicious choices. His is the kind of book you\u2019d expect from an editor known for his rigor and attention to detail. Precision marks Starnino on and off the page, the type of skill that recently landed him in <\/span><\/span>Oxford English Dictionary<\/i><\/span><\/span> (where poems from <\/span><\/span>Credo<\/i><\/span><\/span> were chosen as exemplars for the terms \u201cleaf-light\u201d and \u201clenten-faced\u201d). No dictionary is required to decode <\/span><\/span>Dirty Words<\/i><\/span><\/span> though \u2013 it\u2019s as clean cut and satisfying as the pages it\u2019s printed on.<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

by Jim Johnstone<\/strong><\/p>\n

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  For those who are interested in Canadian poetry but have yet to investigate it seriously, Carmine Starnino’s\u00a0Dirty Words\u00a0offers a portal into the career of one of Canada’s finest craftsmen.   Natural Selection Carmine Starnino, Dirty Words:\u00a0Gaspereau Press, 2020 Volumes of selected poetry are double-edged propositions. 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