In January: “The Sex Lives of Monsters by Helen Marshall”

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To start off 2015, The Poetry Page would like to finish our tributes to the nominees for the 2014 Bram Stoker Award for Poetry. Last, but definitely not least, Helen Marshall was nominated for the brilliant The Sex Lives Of Monsters.

The Sex Lives of Monsters by Helen Marshall

HWA: Do you still have the first poem you ever wrote? Would you be willing to share it?

HM: Ha! No, I very much doubt I have my first poem. I started writing poetry when I was about five years old—not good poetry, mind you, but definitely poetry—and I suspect none of it has survived after its brief life decorating the fridge. Nor indeed do I think it would be of much interest to a reading public. The world has enough bad poetry in it; it doesn’t need one more contribution from me.

But here is a very early piece I wrote while in high school. I was experimenting with medieval poetic forms at the time, and it is in the form of a terza rima, a form first invented by Dante Alighieri. I’m currently sitting in a hotel in Mexico: it is the day of the equinox. Yesterday I visited the archaeological site of Chichen Itza and watched the shadow of the snake god Kukulcan climb down the side of the main pyramid in the plaza. I remember watching the same thing happen when I was about fifteen or so and my parents brought me on vacation, so it feels like a fitting poem to offer.

Apotheosis

My vestal hand now brushes ancient stones
that feathered Mayans carved. Iguana-eyed,
you watch me—priests, warriors, kings—your bones

are dust beneath my fingertips. You died
in blood, yet I am clad in white, the virgin child
that feathered Mayans carved, iguana-eyed.

I hear the pulse of drumbeats. Dream beats wild
within the mountain, in my chest. I know
your blood, yet I am clad in white: the virgin child.

But there are tunnels in us both where foe,
uncaring, flayed away the sun-bleached skin.
Within the mountain in my chest, I know

the pain of traitor blades, of Christian sin.
I am a Christ for you, dark priests, for you
uncaring, flayed away my sun-bleached skin.

Thus we both bleed for long-dead crimes, and through
the body of a god, I am reborn.
I am a Christ for you, dark priests, for you.

These shadows are a veil that I may mourn
the vessel-hand that brushes ancient stone,
the body of a god. I am reborn
in blood and pain, a virgin child, alone.

HWA: How does being a poet fit into the rest of your life?

HM: The one benefit of poetry over most other forms of writing is that it is short, almost like taking a breath, capturing a single moment in time. It fits very easily into the rest of my life.

But being a poet? I don’t know. In some ways it is a strange question to answer because I think of poetry as something I do rather than something I am. It is another way of expressing thought. I did find though, when I first started writing poetry, that it forced me to view the world slantwise. Poetry has a magic force to it: it attempts to convey to the reader through a form that essentially short-circuits the logic of the brain. So the hardest thing about being a poet is mastering the craft, I suppose, learning to experiment with form, learning to understand the resonance of words so that they can mean in as many ways as possible.

HWA: What were your first impressions after learning about the Stoker nomination? What is the impact and import of the nomination?

HM: I have to say that poetry, particularly genre poetry, doesn’t receive a considerable amount of attention. It seems to be regarded as something of an afterthought in most genre circles, and so I’m pleased that the Horror Writers Association has chosen to draw attention to poetry in their awards category. I wrote my chapbook The Sex Lives of Monsters with the sense that its audience would likely be very limited, but at the end of the day, it was still a project I wanted to do very much. It gave me another opportunity to collaborate with my illustrator, the very talented Chris Roberts, and also with my editor, Sandra Kasturi, a brilliant poet in her own right.  Learning about the nomination, I was touched to learn that readers had managed to find my work and enjoy it.

HWA: Who are your favorite poets? Favorite poems?

HM: Poetry is such a difficult field to navigate, and I’ve found the best way to do it is to sit down in the poetry section of a used bookstore and just read the first three poems of every collection there. If they grab me, if they make me feel like I want to go out and write, then I’ll pick up the book. I’ve discovered a huge number of amazing and frequently overlooked poets that way. But my personal favourites include Sandra Kasturi, whose first collection The Animal Bridegroom, was a profound inspiration to me; Michael Ondaatje’s The Collected Works of Billy the Kid; Anne Carson’s The Autobiography of Red and, really, anything else she has written; Lorna Crozier; David Day; Leon Rooke; Sharon Olds; Cat Valente; Tim Bowling; Billy Collins—oh, there are hundreds of others.

One of the comments I frequently get is that people don’t like poetry because it is too hard. And I genuinely sympathise with that complaint. Poetry should be a thing that works on the reader, rather than the other way around. Not all poetry touches all people, but we tend to think of poetry as a category of writing that works in the same way at all times. It doesn’t. My recommendation is to go and find the poetry that moves you, that excites or inspires you, that captures precisely some facet of your own lived experience. Find the poetry that means something to you.

For more on Helen Marshall, visit her website at http://www.helen-marshall.com.

Follow Helen on Twitter here: https://twitter.com/manuscriptgal

For more on The Sex Lives Of Monsters, go here: http://www.blurb.com/b/4562574-the-sex-lives-of-monsters

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