String Theory: Fantastic Chap
String Theory by Alice L. Teeter, winner of the 2008 Charles B. Dickson Memorial Chapbook Award, judged by Lewis Turco.
Published by Georgia Poetry Society (2008). Reviewed by Emmanuel Sigauke
Drawn by the title, I looked for the poems referring to strings first, and I found two, the title poem and another entitled "Heart String Theory." The title poem is about our interconnectedness, our existence as part of the universal continuum, the network of galaxies that individuate yet connect us, this life with its amazing and dazzling hereness. The poem addresses each one of us to contribute a line of verse, to celebrate what there is of life because when we were born, "the universe began", and when we die, "time will end." We are unique, yet in our uniqueness we are connected by strings (perhaps the essence of our humanity) in these "fields of play":
And we are always alone encompassing everything
Always tied with strings, always connected
...Strings tossed to me, I send strings out
To you, from you, to her, to him, from mom, to dad
To sister, from brother, to aunt, uncle, cousin, lover
In "Heart String Theory" our hearts register and "vibrate" to the sounds of voices. The poem speaks to out ability to feel, and feeling is a response to the tug from the outside world. What gets tugged is the essential string that connects or branches us. This explains why the physicists in "Everlasting Chocolate Cake Haiku" share a cake, where "each takes one half with each bite" and the "cake lasts forever." In "The woman Who Ate Anger", we are told, in allegorical and fairy-tale fashion, of a woman who consumes the worries of this world until she grows too fat to be funtional. Then one day she decides to stop eating this anger, exposes the ugliness of it all to the world that watches until it loses interest and she gains her ultimate independence: no more worries, no more eating anger, no more growing fat.
In line with the string concept, we are treated to two more "heart" pieces. The speaker of "Sacred Heart" addresses the reader directly, warning against confusing surface purities with the dangers underneath: "Do not try to walk here" because if you do "you will find that it is white hot." So maybe in our string theory, we must throw or receive the string with caution. In "Pagoda Heart" Teeter uses powerful imagery as she compares a heart to an oriental temple. The speaker's clattered heart needs to be cleaned until its like this temple. If having a big heart means dealing with much clatter, the persona would rather have a one-roomed heart like a pagoda.
Alice Teeter's collection entertains as it teaches. In it there is singing, there is dancing to freedom, dancing to the bondage of the self. Our experiences are part of the numerous fields of play that represent the universes we occupy. We are each our own universe, existing in our vast galaxy. The serious message in the poems is presented through fresh imagery and playful lines. After all, the twang of strings produces music, and music is play.
This is a highly readable, crisp, clever, and daring chapbook.
A shorter version of this review will appear in the July issue of Poetry Now.
Published by Georgia Poetry Society (2008). Reviewed by Emmanuel Sigauke
Drawn by the title, I looked for the poems referring to strings first, and I found two, the title poem and another entitled "Heart String Theory." The title poem is about our interconnectedness, our existence as part of the universal continuum, the network of galaxies that individuate yet connect us, this life with its amazing and dazzling hereness. The poem addresses each one of us to contribute a line of verse, to celebrate what there is of life because when we were born, "the universe began", and when we die, "time will end." We are unique, yet in our uniqueness we are connected by strings (perhaps the essence of our humanity) in these "fields of play":
And we are always alone encompassing everything
Always tied with strings, always connected
...Strings tossed to me, I send strings out
To you, from you, to her, to him, from mom, to dad
To sister, from brother, to aunt, uncle, cousin, lover
In "Heart String Theory" our hearts register and "vibrate" to the sounds of voices. The poem speaks to out ability to feel, and feeling is a response to the tug from the outside world. What gets tugged is the essential string that connects or branches us. This explains why the physicists in "Everlasting Chocolate Cake Haiku" share a cake, where "each takes one half with each bite" and the "cake lasts forever." In "The woman Who Ate Anger", we are told, in allegorical and fairy-tale fashion, of a woman who consumes the worries of this world until she grows too fat to be funtional. Then one day she decides to stop eating this anger, exposes the ugliness of it all to the world that watches until it loses interest and she gains her ultimate independence: no more worries, no more eating anger, no more growing fat.
In line with the string concept, we are treated to two more "heart" pieces. The speaker of "Sacred Heart" addresses the reader directly, warning against confusing surface purities with the dangers underneath: "Do not try to walk here" because if you do "you will find that it is white hot." So maybe in our string theory, we must throw or receive the string with caution. In "Pagoda Heart" Teeter uses powerful imagery as she compares a heart to an oriental temple. The speaker's clattered heart needs to be cleaned until its like this temple. If having a big heart means dealing with much clatter, the persona would rather have a one-roomed heart like a pagoda.
Alice Teeter's collection entertains as it teaches. In it there is singing, there is dancing to freedom, dancing to the bondage of the self. Our experiences are part of the numerous fields of play that represent the universes we occupy. We are each our own universe, existing in our vast galaxy. The serious message in the poems is presented through fresh imagery and playful lines. After all, the twang of strings produces music, and music is play.
This is a highly readable, crisp, clever, and daring chapbook.
A shorter version of this review will appear in the July issue of Poetry Now.
Comments
Thanks, K for stopping by.