Sunday Poem

LATE LOVE POEM 

Well. Here we are. Where we have always been,
of course; and sometimes recognized as such.
I wonder that the cosmos can survive
the theme and variation of your touch. 

Well, there you go, where we have never gone:
off course, but something understood at last.
I doubt that even God remembers, Dear,
the paths that we have scrambled in the past.

Well this is it. At least we think it is,
or may have been, or may be at the close
of any narrative of passion and reprieve.
My God you are redemptive in repose!

Well. Just as well. The others never got
beyond the starting gate; and if they won
the velvet pisspot, with rosette, so what?
By God Sweetheart you always jumped the gun!

Well that is that. Finito. QED.
Wrapped up in greaseproof paper. That's show biz:
"Styx nix hix pix." Okay, I know it ain't
all over till it's over. Then it is.

Well, what the Hell. Or Heaven. Which is where
we came in Love and which is where we leave.
Earth to earth, the sure and certain earth,
earth Incorruptible. I shall not grieve.

From Where The Nights Are Twice As Long (Goose Lane, ed. by David Eso and Jeanette Lynes) by Richard Outram

(Illustration by Pedro Pezte) 

The Problem of "Unquestioned Fandom"

The existence of Richard Outram: Essays on His Work is an exciting sign, one that proves there can indeed be second acts in Canadian poetry. But Jacob McArthur Mooney's review in NPR astutely points to one of the few (and perhaps unavoidable) weaknesses of the book:

The collection as edited by Ingrid Ruthig is therefore written for lovers of Outram's work. It assumes that nobody much else is going to pick it up. Probably, this was the correct editorial path, but once Outram himself gets out of the way after Michael Carbet's interview, a real mantra of exceptionalism sets in. Robert Denham's historical account of the Outram-Northrope Frye relationship is plenty interesting, as is Amanda Jernigan's piece of the macroeconomics of sequencing and Jeffrey Donaldson's extended-metaphor-on-the-subject-of-metaphors, but they all start from such a place of unquestioned fandom that they don't necessarily open a lot of doors to those of us who (and here I announce my own biases) loved Hiram and Jenny but found the dour fairy tale stuff in Dove Legend and the clippity-clop rhyme schemes that come and go in every Outram book to be only about half as perfectly crafted and subtle as their creator likely did. This is the problem, really, of claiming a canonical space for a writer who never captured enough critical attention in life to have it guaranteed to him in death, however warranted that attention might have been. His acolytes have to spend so much time repeating judgements of quality that the rest of us are left with little concrete reference points to compare him to.

Remembering Outram cont'd

Memorial University's Digital Archives Initiative has put together a fabulous digital exhibition of publications (like the delectable broadside above) by The Gauntlet Press, the joint publishing venture of the late Richard Outram and his wife artist Barbara Howard. The site is a wonder cabinet crammed with curios and goodies, including a delightful 2002 recording of a CBC "Sunday Edition" interview between Outram and Michael Enright.

And here, in case you missed it, is a nice review of Outram's posthumous poetry collection, South of North.