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Perfect
Disappearance: Poems
by Martha Rhodes
New Issues Press Poetry Series
September, 2000. Paper, 62 pp. Our
Price: $14.00 order this book
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In Perfect
Disappearance, Martha Rhodes tackles
difficult familial themes and enters realms of the
sensual with a fully liberated sensibility. She says
what we would all like to say about our dreams and
day dreams in connection with the significant people
in our lives. Rhodes is unafraid of admitting to the
ambivalent emotions associated with intimate
relationships. As in the brief but powerfully
psychological poem, "This Is My Mother,"
the speaker dutifully cares for her aged mother but
imagines letting her fall and breakretaliation
for having constricted her, never encouraging or
understanding her grace:
This is my mother,
shrunken in my hands
an egg, translucent,
thin-membrane'd
I am clumsy with what's small
(she never let me handle
her mother's heirloom crystal)
yet now, from bed to chair
I dare myself to drop her
Rhodes is brave about the love-hate feelings that
govern our daily lives. Though she doesn't deal with
the world's sociopolitical issues, she deals deeply
with the emotions that underlie wars and conflicts:
greed for power, for things, for sensual pleasures,
for love. There is no survivor, wise and
unappeasable. Her animated style is within her poetic
control and results in gripping poems that keep us
with her all the way, nodding with recognition,
smiling wryly, and feeling the nebulous anxieties
that drive us. Though a few poems are elliptical,
sometimes surreal, most are accessible even in the
deliberate vagaries of their Kafkaesque style.
This is candid, wise, clever, quirky and wry
poetry, but there are moments of tenderness amidst
Rhodes' sternness. The poet is sane and grounded,
even when the speaker of the poems is deluded by
haunting dreams and vague panic. Rhodes weaves an
interesting mosaic of Freudian relationshipsthe
binding ties of familywith the fear of death in
such poems as "It Being Forbidden,"
"Why They Can't Move," "A Room Where a
Child," and "Landmarks."
Sister, uncles, nieces, fathers
All pressed into this
Small earth She's swallowing his chest, his
hand's
In her thigh, thin sheets
Our grandmothers wove
Pine boxes our grandfathers carved
Crumbling
Small continents rubbing & rubbing
When will their limbs
Cease reaching, by when must I say, Yes
Put me down here
She bears witness to the foibles of human nature,
the jealousies, hatreds and longings that propel us
all. The poem in which she dreams about her sister,
"Without Gloves," crystallizes the sibling
rivalries with which we can all identify.
Martha Rhodes has a steady grasp on the
subconscious, and that's what makes the poems
interesting. They embody terror, anger, anxiety,
love, and forgiveness with a thoroughly refreshing
uncompromising lack of sentimentality. Martha Rhodes'
first book, At the Gate
(Provincetown Arts Press, 1995), is likewise filled
with vignettes and flashes of dream or memory .
Rhodes is an odd original with courage to be herself.
New Issues Press has attractively presented this new
collection, winner of the 2000 Green Rose Prize. Just
as there are good poets like Rhodes who, but for some
twist of fate, should or would be among our
best-known American contemporaries, there are many
"naked emperors without new clothes" who
are far more celebrated and shouldn't be.
This empress of words has clothes and wears them
well indeed! Her haunting narratives move us to
laughter or despair through the dark glass of the
psyche revealed in all its messiness and
contradiction to the socialization that cloaks and
covers truths that she unveils for us. This is a book
worth reading for both its psychological insights and
its poetry. The poet, crafty and cunning, is bound to
her emotions; yet her poems, the work of an
independent spirit, are rendered lively and urgent by
her intelligence.
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