| Review:
Kathy Fagan's The Charm by Jacqueline Marcus |
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Kathy Fagan,
The Charm, Zoo Press University of Nebraska Press, 2002,
“Kathy Fagan, an accomplished poet and
professor of poetics at Ohio State University, has been writing poetry for the past two
decades. The Charm is her third
collection of poetry and meets all of the expectations one could place on such a poet with
such a career. It is quite simply of the best
books Zoo Press has been privileged to publish to date.” --Editors of Zoo Press You’ll be mesmerized by Kathy Fagan’s new book, The Charm, from the opening poem to the last. Edward Hirsch observed, “There is something both very old and very new—archaic and postmodern—in Kathy Fagan’s wisecracking charms to assuage rage and despair, to ward off misfortune and heartbreak. The Charm dissolves the leaden circles in the air and charms with fresh carols.” Click here to read Hirsch’s review on The Charm in Poet’s Choice The Washington Post. *** In “Charm for What Looks Like,” the opening poem of this book, the poet is looking at a family photograph that dates back to the 1950s or '60s. What Fagan has beautifully accomplished in this poem is the way the mind re-creates the moment instantaneously to life, as if we were walking around in this picture, selecting certain items or objects that depict that time period of youthful expectation: "...real plastic / purses with chains..."—the furniture, the clothes, the backyard…all take on a spell of their own, little charms that transcend time, that served a purpose of rendering life more tolerable in its darkest moments.
Charm for What Looks
Like imaginary hats, real plastic inside them, brown suit or sailor muffs molting on pastel beagle.
A white house with rose all, and a willow weeping day and night. … The poet jokingly tells us that “Nobody really wants to / relive it. We’re all too tired / from turning the century.” The turn of the century is the turn of this century. In other words, we're too tired to relive the 60s—our youth—because we've literally turned the century over. Reflecting on this snapshot, you could say that there is the semblance of order and then there is the reality of something else that comes closer to grief or perhaps disillusionment: … you could weep like a tree? is for homemade bubbles, which calls for
water “Weep like a tree” recalls the
“weeping willow” of the dead boy.
And yet, the poet chose not to end this poem on the weeping
willow, instead she remembers a recipe of homemade bubbles, an alchemical transformation
of changing dishwater soap into tiny evanescent colors, a child’s memory of hope or
escape. *** We tend to mistake the semblance of order with happiness, a “superficial” happiness that is masked in materialistic comforts. Fagan will often employ her wit with a touch of cynicism in her observations of suburban middle class America. On reading this collection of poems, I had to laugh at Fagan’s “take” on domestic life, the Wal-Mart shoppers and their perpetual desire for conformity, the green minivans and SUVs represent uniformity and the propagation of mono-culturalism. As J.S. Mill predicted, “The combination of all these causes forms so great a mass of influences hostile to Individuality, that it is not easy to see how it can stand its ground…Mankind speedily become unable to conceive diversity, when they have been for some time unaccustomed to see it.” (J.S. Mill, Chapter 3, On Liberty) It’s as if Fagan were asking her readers, “Take a look at this and tell me if there’s something wrong with this picture?”
Invective I am mad at the houses, I hate all the lawns, And the people who sew, And the golfers with their bunkers and
roughs, Wall-to-wall carpet really pisses me off. Let’s burn the catalogues, Let’s punish employees who spray Lysol
on neighboring tables … I’m reminded of Neruda’s “Walking Around.” “Nothing more effectively erases multiplicity of culture than TV,” wrote H.L. Hix in his book of essays, As Easy As Lying: Essays on Poetry. The commercial world promotes the superficial lifestyle of tract homes and minivans. Commenting on the propagation of mono-culturalism, poet and critic, Robert Bly, pointed to a statue of Snoopy at a shopping mall to signify America’s cultural decline: “The new mall in Minneapolis has a statue of Snoopy taller than any statue of Jesus in the city.” Conversely, I would not want to see a huge statue of Jesus in competition with Snoopy. Fagan’s cynicism is lighter than Neruda’s surreal rebellion, but the message is one of irritation, nonetheless. I, myself, loathe green minivans and those obnoxious, polluting SUVs. One is tempted to paint big yellow smiley faces on their hoods, the ones with American flags attached to the windows. It would complete the commercial package. “Misfortune Cookies” is in the same humorous vein. Here are a few lines taken from this poem: Creative
people are attracted to you * pant suits at discount prices. A little personality would do you good. * You piss people off but they can’t say why. These are not exactly the fortunes you’d expect to read in your Chinese fortune cookies, but wouldn’t it be fun to pass them out to the same people driving SUVs and minivans? *** Bob Hicok wrote that “few poets have Kathy Fagan’s range—of subject, of diction—and fewer so skillfully match the language and pitch of a poem to its intent.” The titles, alone, give an idea of Fagan’s range of subjects: “Charm for Max Ernst,” “Aubergine Accords with Dove Charmingly,” “Charm to Avoid Dying a Second Time,” “Picasso’s Toenails,” “Charms from an English Grammar,” “Kind Delicatessen”… And just as Fagan can easily amuse you with her wit and playful sarcasm, she can just as easily seduce you with melodiously sad moments like this one:
Letter from the
Garden Three days of spring winter and suddenly, “Letter from the Garden” is such an exquisite poem that it would be better not to say anything, to let it stand in its own pearly light, by itself. *** Fagan, having lived in California for a
good number of years, begins her poem, “In California,” with “one either
believes in God / or believes one is God.”
Certainly, that observation captures California’s religious and
political diversity in one brilliant stroke. I
think it's true to say that southern Californians believe in God and northern
Californians, especially poets from San Francisco, believe they are God. I love the imagery and metaphors in this passage: I have held in my hand a baton of sky, "In California"
*** In “Charm Bracelet” Fagan plays off the Haiku line structure in some very clever and amusing ways. Well, folks, now we all know what Kathy Fagan does when she goes online. There is something of a distinction, since we've already mentioned "distinctions," between Wall-Mart shoppers and Ebay shoppers. For one, Ebay shoppers can buy what they want without driving a green minivan. The question is: What does Ebay have to do with "occasional tanka"? I guess you'll just have to buy the book to find out!
Ebay Haiku with Occasional Tanka Can you trust a thing
*** Intelligence, wit, irony, compassion, humor – Kathy Fagan has it all. In short, The Charm is a delightful read – definitely worth having! Click here to read more poems from Kathy Fagan’s new book, The Charm.
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