{"id":1632,"date":"2012-04-27T16:08:14","date_gmt":"2012-04-27T15:08:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1256"},"modified":"2012-11-08T23:12:01","modified_gmt":"2012-11-08T23:12:01","slug":"terry-jones-furious-resonance-poetry-salzburg-pamphlet-series-5","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=1632","title":{"rendered":"Terry Jones, Furious Resonance, Poetry Salzburg Pamphlet Series 5"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a>
\n<\/br><\/p>\n

How to hold life in a language \u2013 it\u2019s the poet\u2019s task. This, Jones\u2019s first short collection, is a good raid on the inarticulate, complete with buckets, boxes, bottles and sarcophagi within which to contain his finds. \u2018It\u2019s a matter of where you tread\u2019 opens the first poem, which nicely contains read, the speaker going on to hold the \u2018furious resonance\u2019 of a bee in a bottle, inviting us to \u2018hold the note and enter\u2019. In the next, \u2018Formicidae\u2019, Jones turns to bottled ants, his vessel the sonnet:<\/p>\n

\n

We bottled them and turned them out to war,
\nthe red and black on summer pavement flags.
\nWe crouched to watch them kill and kept the score
\nof efficient dismemberings; thorax,
\nthe tiny heads, the limbless in despair [\u2026]<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

They are transformed into \u2018Paris\u2019, \u2018Achilles\u2019, Myrmidons fighting \u2018for the colour of their little nations\u2019, before a brave-or-stupid final couplet defuses the situation with an uneasy fun:<\/p>\n

\nAnd when we tired of our killing play
\nwe smeared them on the stones and went away.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

There\u2019s a change of tack in the next, a great poem, \u2018Preservations\u2019. We find the speaker \u2018on the day we burned the old dictionaries, | a batch of German-to-English ones.\u2019 Immediately we find ourselves in potentially depthy territory, a \u2018B\u00fccherverbrennung in the morning.\u2019 Jones forces nothing and allows the poem to speak for itself, with wonderful play, from the pun on sparkle in the German \u2018sprachlos\u2019, speechless, to the beautiful description of \u2018the last pages\u2019 as \u2018a flicker of inklings.\u2019 The hesitancy of \u2018Their tongues of flames changed colour, | red becoming violet, yellow white, | as if uncertain of their own identity\u2019 is compared to the \u2018sure-fire sense | that verbs burned bluer than nouns, | that adjectives gave off most smoke\u2019.<\/p>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

A loose thread carefully weaves the collection together. \u2018Sleep-Talking\u2019 echoes \u2018Preservations\u2019 in the first few lines:<\/p>\n

\nShe was talking in her sleep, not clearly,
\nhardly English, as if sleeping
\nshe wandered through a charred dictionary
\nas large as a house. From afar I heard
\na mutter from a womb: it was echoic and grave [\u2026]\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

Echoes, wombs, graves \u2013 again we are in a rich vein of poetry, in sleep \u2018the words | shifting to new arrangements.\u2019 In the following poem, \u2018Arrangement\u2019, the speaker gathers \u2018inklings and omens like kindling\u2019, shrugs off skin or shirt (we are not sure) to \u2018arrange it carefully by like an echo.\u2019 The book itself becomes \u2018a sudden paper tomb\u2019 in \u2018Moth\u2019:<\/p>\n

\nPressed in the pages of the book
\na moth that must have landed here
\nhas turned into this powder blur,
\nthe one dimension of itself.\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

A disembodied Kleopatra views her mummification in \u2018Kleopatra: Room 62\u2019; in \u2018Archaeopteryx\u2019 we see \u2018a silk-screen print on stone: | the first bird on the cross of its skeleton\u2019, the rhyme delicate, the image exact.<\/p>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

Furious Resonance is a mixed bag full of gems and, following his success in the 2011 Bridport Prize, it\u2019s been a good year for Jones. Originally from Bradford, now living in Cumbria, his reputation has been growing for some time. He manages variety without dilution, an array of form, language, theme \u2013 the rolling, unpunctuated style in poems like \u2018Mirror of Dark\u2019, a homage to the dark Cumbrian winter, sits comfortably alongside the sonnets:<\/p>\n

\ndark we say and we are approaching Aglionby
\nwhich is two lights in the rain and we are dropping
\ndown to dark Warwick Bridge and we see ourselves
\nin the dark in the reflection of the window
\nso dark we say and everyone is upbeat in the dark<\/br>
\nbelonging here and if you look at a globe
\nand see England and see where the arctic is and the pole
\nso we are up near the dark so you could walk
\nand it would be dark and we stand up in the aisle
\nin the dark mirrors of the windows with no outside\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

It is the familiar suddenly perceived, and the sharpness of that perception, found somehow in language, that characterises Furious Resonance. Jones\u2019s eye, pressed against the glass, is a keen one.<\/p>\n

<\/br><\/p>\n

John North<\/strong> is the winner of the Centre for New Writing’s Poetry Review Writing Competition, 2012. His chapbook, Northern Lad Meets the English Language, Fights<\/em>, was published by The Freerange Poetry Project, in association with Carlisle Arts Festival, in 2007. John is currently studying for an MA in Creative Writing at the University of Manchester. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

How to hold life in a language \u2013 it\u2019s the poet\u2019s task. This, Jones\u2019s first short collection, is a good raid on the inarticulate, complete with buckets, boxes, bottles and sarcophagi within which to contain his finds. \u2018It\u2019s a matter of where you tread\u2019 opens the first poem, which nicely contains read, the speaker going […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":45,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[13],"tags":[11,199,250],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\nTerry Jones, Furious Resonance, Poetry Salzburg Pamphlet Series 5 - The Manchester Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=1632\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Terry Jones, Furious Resonance, Poetry Salzburg Pamphlet Series 5 - The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"How to hold life in a language \u2013 it\u2019s the poet\u2019s task. 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