
Reviewed: At Times Your Lines by Susan Lewis. Publisher: Argotist Ebooks, 2012. Free PDF download only, 35pp.

Home // August.26.2016 // Natalie Janes

Possibility and Dichotomy

The title of Susan Lewis's collection, At Times Your Lines, neatly curls its attention back in upon itself: let us consider, then, what Lewis is doing by asking us to think about lines, of poetry, of lives, yours, hers, and ours. The first thing I notice is the format chosen for the individual prose poems comprising the book. Each page contains a single poem, and each poem is structured as a brick-like block of text, justified on left and right edges both. The most obvious variations among them are the decisions in some poems to begin with an indent, or to not capitalize the first letter. Otherwise, the text blocks are at first comforting in their reliability. Yet indeed there are places in which this comfort is subtly undermined, and this is likely a reference to the thematic concerns of the poems. That is: a consistent and universal structure occasionally fails to provide the security it promises, as exemplified by the subtle but apparent places in some text blocks where the words stretch out awkwardly, like gaps beneath our feet. The lines follow a pattern, then; though, at times, they don't.

It is this existential conflict that characterizes the dual personality of the speaker in this collection. One voice, which asserts spiritual stability and optimism, is presented in a trite and superficial manner compared to its more dubious counterpart, which seems, maybe, to dominate the conversation. But undoubtedly there is indecision present between the two, a tension between a sentimental, cultivated narrative of life; and a conception of reality that is comparatively more cold, arbitrary, and perhaps even objective; that identifies the common thread running through these poems. It is epitomized in a line from one of the earlier poems in the book, "In Praise of Attention," in an italicized quotation from Werner Heisenberg's "Physics and Philosophy: The Revolution in Modern Science" (1958): "What we observe is not nature itself but nature exposed to our method of questioning." This matter of scientific inquiry—our assumptions about its certainty—is often implied in the dispute between existential idealism and realism. Is our experience of life as humans something we can grasp, and conquer, with the tools of scientific observation? Or is the infallibility of rational investigation just another part of the intellectual narrative we have constructed for ourselves to help compartmentalize abstraction and inconsistency?

This question, of whether vehicles of human perception, which include both science and art, succeed in creating an illustration of our world or an illusion of it, or somewhere in between, is surely a juicy metaphysical topic to grapple with. Lewis takes us on a journey in which this dichotomy takes many iterations, and each one adds some complexity to the philosophical conundrum we are being made to understand. A few examples:

The dichotomy between righteousness and doubt, particularly in the context of an argument, which is demonstrated in the piece "Righteous in Retreat." At the same time that there is mention of having conviction, of "Going for the," and "gushing forth," there is also an admission of "A math that some can puncture, pleadingly. Here & there you blunder into sacrificial traps."
The dichotomy between the metaphorical and the literal, as demonstrated in "Eclogue (III)": "A bird perched on a wire like a bird perched on a wire," "But they speak no common language so the misunderstanding gels into a nest full of need."
The dichotomy between meaning and obscurity, as demonstrated in the piece "At Times Your Lines": "bring me to tears. On page & canvas brow. I want to mouth your worry," as opposed to, "Or drown in the commonplace, its chaotic tides."

Indeed, the listing of dichotomous words and phrases is itself a running theme, as evidenced in pieces such as "Either/Or": "If & when. To sink or soar. Extend & contract. Listen to the finches, working the room in pairs & pairs of pairs." This adds a dimension of further self-awareness to the entire collection.

Lewis's compositional choices are sophisticated and impressive. I was struck in many places by creative word choices leading to verbal, rhythmic, and tonal surprise. One example of this is a line from "In the Meantime": "Kiss me on the downbeat; show me your teeth; hum." Pleasing is the agreement between "Kiss," "-beat," and "teeth," as well as between "down-" and "show." Consequently, when "hum" lands, it interrupts these acoustic threads in an interesting and provocative way.

There is a peril in setting up such high expectations. Here and there I was left unsatisfied by Lewis's execution of the rich and promising rhetorical inventory she prepared for herself. As a result, the flesh of whatever it is that Lewis intends to deliver to the reader fails to be received. The dualities I listed above are numerous, and as a result, they add nuance to the debate at hand. Yet at the same time, they succeed in muddying things up. Lewis's writing largely stops short of connecting all the dots—where does the speaker ultimately fall? Do scientific inquiry and musical composition ultimately provide a satisfactory enrichment of reality? Or is it all a farce, and the holes that inevitably appear in any attempt to narrate our lives are simply too distracting for us to successfully kid ourselves? It's not clear to the reader which one of these possibilities is more bothersome to the reader, nor whether one is presented as more plausible than the other. This book lays down a richly developed foundation, without moving further in the direction of more definitive convictions. Considering the possibilities that Lewis prepared for, she left ample room for greater risks to be taken.

Perhaps I read too much between the lines, but do I detect signs that Lewis shares this understanding of her project? In "In Praise of Miscommunication," it is admitted that:

We have tried many things and failed them all. Still we are distracted by these weblike tentacles probing the crevices in which we work & play. How loudly they rumble while we watch & wait for intention to become laudable.

In "have tried many things," I wonder if we are seeing another instance of that self-awareness I noticed in the title, for this is a collection whose contents try many things. Ironically, At Times Your Lines is more skilled at identifying and describing the feeling of hermeneutical vagueness than actually remedying it in her own art. On the other hand, maybe just evoking that feeling—which Lewis does quite masterfully—is asking enough for a work of literature.

A postscript from the Editor: The quality of this e-book's cover and typographic design is low. This inattention to visual credibility is needlessly epidemic in small press publishing generally, and especially in small press e-publishing. It is not only a disservice to authors, but a failure to capitalize on the truly expansive design possibilities inherent in a digital-only publishing form. As we look out for excellent and innovative publications to review in NERObooks, we will keep a watchful eye open for opportunities to feature books which demonstrate how to do e-publishing right. - ZWB

Banner graphic source: A 2010 photo (cropped) by David Shankbone of a 2010 graffiti mural in New York City, created by artists Barry McGee and Josh Lazcano (aka Amaze). This photo appears here under the terms of the CC by 2.0 license.