{"id":7473,"date":"2017-04-13T12:33:38","date_gmt":"2017-04-13T11:33:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=7473"},"modified":"2017-04-13T14:07:06","modified_gmt":"2017-04-13T13:07:06","slug":"luke-wright-the-toll-penned-in-the-margins-9-99-reviewed-by-chloe-vaughan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=7473","title":{"rendered":"Luke Wright, The Toll<\/em>, reviewed by Chlo\u00e9 Vaughan"},"content":{"rendered":"
Luke Wright, The Toll<\/em> (Penned in the Margins, \u00a39.99).<\/h5>\n

I don\u2019t usually laugh when I read poetry. This is probably because I\u2019m miserable and like to read morose poems. However, <\/em>I genuinely laughed out loud on the bus when I was reading the \u2018Essex Lion\u2019 in Luke Wright\u2019s poetry collection The Toll<\/em>. This is a poem that retells one of the pivotal moments in Essex history in all its splendour. The reader comes into a summery day with bar-be-ques and antiquated gender roles, and all is fine and dandy until:<\/p>\n

Barbara squawked, Oh Lord, fuck me<\/em>,
\nand all and sundry turned to see
\na cat-like beast. By Christ, said Brian,
\nIs that… it is… a fucking LION<\/em><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

With the regular rhyme throughout, I wasn\u2019t expecting such a shocking exclamation from potty mouth Barbara. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever read a comedy poem before, or read a poet who leans into comedic elements anyway, and it was really enjoyable in its originality. I also didn\u2019t expect a poem about the infamous Essex lion to be funny, but here we are, laughing along together on the bus. I think part of what makes this poem, and some others in the collection like \u2018One Trick Bishop\u2019 and \u2018Hungover in Town, Sunday Morning\u2019, funny, is the contrast between the traditional rhyming and rhythmic elements and the thoroughly modern subject matter.<\/p>\n

Luke Wright\u2019s awareness and use of rhyme is skilful, and his position as a spoken word performance artist, obvious. Each poem in The Toll<\/em> has some form of strong sound throughout, either in its regular rhyme or in the series of univocal lipograms that go through every vowel in the alphabet and are placed sporadically throughout the collection,<\/p>\n

This priggish birch whip,
\nthis piss-dripping fright-witch
\nwith whitish skin wig,
\nthis jiggling tit hitting skint Brits in mining districts,
\nthis grim Christ victimising sick kids with dwindling tidbits.
\nfound in \u2018IDS\u2019 a \u2018univocal lipogram in I\u2019 in an ode to the one and only, Iain Duncan Smith.<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

After reading through The Toll<\/em> a couple of times, the sounds weren\u2019t as prominent which meant I could get to the meat of the poem a bit easier. It\u2019s been a while since I\u2019ve read contemporary poetry that utilises a traditional rhyme and sound structure, so on those first few reads the rhyme was the most prevalent thing, and not the words themselves. However, once you get into the rhythm of his work, it\u2019s something that feels contentedly familiar and allows the words to do the work they were intended for.<\/p>\n

And those words really do some work. Personally, I found the most profound poems to be the personal, reflective ones where Wright references his family, and more specifically, his position as a father. In \u2018Watch\u2019, a short 3 stanza poem made up of couplets, the narrator comments on the ephemerality of time:<\/p>\n

Like my dad, my Christmas job, it seems
\nis balling wrapping paper into bags.<\/p>\n

You tear through plastic junk you\u2019ll soon forget
\nuntil one more, held back to last: a watch.<\/p>\n

We sit together, watching seconds tick.
\nWow, Dad,<\/em> you say. It\u2019s going really fast<\/em>.<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

This beautiful sphere of an image is so strong and powerful, and captures the essence of a loving father-son relationship. This potent image and sense of a strong relationship comes through in the sonnet \u2018Dad Reins\u2019. The closing couplet is so lovely and heart grabbingly sweet it really does read as a declaration of love for his son:<\/p>\n

Roam now, my boy, don\u2019t worry, you\u2019ll be fine.
\nI\u2019ll be your tether, Sam, because you\u2019re mine.<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

And in the final in this little trilogy of personal selections, is \u2018Swimming with Aidan, aged 4\u2019. An observational poem that is exactly what the title says, the reader is invited to watch Aidan with his \u2018picked scabs, pulled threads and left feet\u2019 try his hand at swimming. Unfortunately, it doesn\u2019t go very well and he ends up \u2018half-drowned in rage\u2019. Thankfully, the reader now invested, he picks himself up and:<\/p>\n

[…] While others tip-toe,
\ntoo scared to dunk their heads of leave their depth
\nyou swagger: grace, grit, guts, and get-me gusto.
\nYou gulp existence down with each gasped breath.<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

The father in the last line can sense that his son\u2019s energy is almost gone however, and so \u2018a hug to keep the victory in\u2019 is necessary. This is definitely a prideful poem, the father proud of his son and his creation of a son who will always try.<\/p>\n

Luke Wright\u2019s The Toll<\/em> is a rich collection that is diversely peppered with the comedic and the moving. A master of sound, he invokes the traditional poetry canon and places it with the decidedly modern reflections of the state of England in 2017.<\/p>\n

Chlo\u00e9 Vaughan<\/h5>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Luke Wright, The Toll (Penned in the Margins, \u00a39.99). I don\u2019t usually laugh when I read poetry. This is probably because I\u2019m miserable and like to read morose poems. However, I genuinely laughed out loud on the bus when I was reading the \u2018Essex Lion\u2019 in Luke Wright\u2019s poetry collection The Toll. This is a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":45,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","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":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[13,283],"tags":[],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\nLuke Wright, The Toll, reviewed by Chlo\u00e9 Vaughan - 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=7473\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Luke Wright, The Toll, reviewed by Chlo\u00e9 Vaughan - The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Luke Wright, The Toll (Penned in the Margins, \u00a39.99). 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