Claire Hero’s manuscript “afterpastures” was chosen by Claudia Rankine as the winning entrant in the 2007 Caketrain Chapbook Competition. Here, corporeality shatters in flux, body and identity transmogrified so constantly as to seem a form of gesture, a language, a dance. The world of afterpastures is an infinite series of portals, new wombs in which a thing pulled throughClaire Hero’s manuscript “afterpastures” was chosen by Claudia Rankine as the winning entrant in the 2007 Caketrain Chapbook Competition. Here, corporeality shatters in flux, body and identity transmogrified so constantly as to seem a form of gesture, a language, a dance. The world of afterpastures is an infinite series of portals, new wombs in which a thing pulled through becomes beast, becomes feed, becomes dirt, and is again and again resurrected. “Where is death?” ponders a speaker. “Where does death enter our lives?” The questions scarcely scratch the surface of the cyclical, multiplicitous half-lives of Hero’s dark forest dwellers, but the words suggest a reflexivity that, where it falls, is haunting and sudden in its humanity. Beneath a jagged surface awash in spermsalt, leafmould and eggclay, afterpastures is, at its swollen heart, an exercise in empathy, deeply and bloodily felt, for animalia in all its gnashing, clawing, living, dying intensity. The cycle’s sibling, a cover photograph depicting Kate James’ knitted object for experiential synchronicity between woman and horse, depicts no one thing in afterpastures, but means all things to it....
|Number of Pages||:||48 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
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I haven't read a lot of poetry, so I think I went into this a little intimidated. The form and language is very experimental, at least to me, and this made it a little hard to follow the first time around. This is very short though, at only 40 or so pages, so I was able to just flip right back to the beginning and read the poems again, this time, aloud. This really helped both my understanding of the poems and my enjoyment. The theme that ties all of the poems in this pamphlet together is the idea of humans and animals being one, the relationship between humans and animals and our immersion into the world of nature. The poems are very short and do stand by themselves, but reading this from start to finish as one single piece, really worked. Each poem flowed very seamlessly into the next and despite the sometimes jarring, obscure sentence structure, I found them fairly easy to follow (although definitely more so after my second reading aloud). Hero also uses a selection of made up compound words such as eggclay, milkteeth and filchblood, continuing the theme of the connection between the body and the natural world. This was definitely a very interesting read and I did enjoy it, although because I am not a poetry academic I think a lot of the poet's intentions may have gone a bit over my head. However, if this is something you are interested in picking up, I would encourage you to do so as it doesn't take a lot of time and was fascinating nonetheless.
I read this when I came across Caketrain's website last year. There's something about this chapbook that is haunting and really fun to read. The wordplay of poetry that I hardly understand makes this very interesting and thought provoking. It paints pictures in my head better than a novel can. This book is why I love poetry. I recommend it to any poetry fan.
Into the animal and back out the other side, where there's a deep calm and unsettling vantage of the natural world. The only thing this book lacks is prolonged experiment, as in--pls to hav 80 moar pages, thx.
lovely!from afterpastures:MAMMALED, TEAT-tetheredto hunger, to heat beatingits bloodnoisethrough cellwallsof tomorrow’s marrow,we farrow, feral-lettered, a future:thin thing, re-vealed,all knee & milkteethMilkcentMilkcentury--
I did a video review that you can watch at http://www.wingchairbooks.com/2010/09...
I think reading this at five o'clock in the morning may have hampered my understanding/enjoyment of this chapbook. I'll have to read it again. When not awake at such a horrific hour.