Poetry. "Patrick Lawler's new book UNDERGROUND (NOTES TOWARD AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY) is a unique and fascinating volume: part interview, part poetry, part elegy for his father, part examination of how a son with this particular father became a writer and a poet. You will be in awe at how Lawler, a boy who spent seven years living with his family in a cellar with no books--just a
Poetry. "Patrick Lawler's new book UNDERGROUND (NOTES TOWARD AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY) is a unique and fascinating volume: part interview, part poetry, part elegy for his father, part examination of how a son with this particular father became a writer and a poet. You will be in awe at how Lawler, a boy who spent seven years living with his family in a cellar with no books--just a magic word box--transformed himself and came to terms with his father's idiosynchrasies as well as his own. 'At One of my Father's Funerals, I was Humphrey Bogart' is a knockout piece! Read this, read it all. Find out how Lawler discovers that an ending 'blossoms into multiple beginnings.'"--Susan Terris
...more
Paperback
,
76 pages
Published
December 6th 2011
by Many Mountains Moving
Underground was published by a small press called Many Mountain Moving Press, which seems to be the one-man operation of Jeffrey Ethan Lee. Unexpectedly, I found myself quite affected by the book, which is, indeed, a sort of memoir, or more precisely, the account of a father rendered by a son. Unexpectedly, since generally I am quite suspicious of any rendering of world or word into binaries, such as dark/light; interior/exterior; above/beneath; shadow/sun, etc. For some reason, I accepted such
Underground was published by a small press called Many Mountain Moving Press, which seems to be the one-man operation of Jeffrey Ethan Lee. Unexpectedly, I found myself quite affected by the book, which is, indeed, a sort of memoir, or more precisely, the account of a father rendered by a son. Unexpectedly, since generally I am quite suspicious of any rendering of world or word into binaries, such as dark/light; interior/exterior; above/beneath; shadow/sun, etc. For some reason, I accepted such tropes in the context of this book, a fact that I am still mulling over. Underground is structured as an alternation between an interview with the author by Paul B. Roth that appeared in Bitter Oleander in 2009 and selections of Lawler's poetry (these seem to date from the 1990s to the present). Although Underground is already a hybrid-genre text (poems, interview, a few photos, bio of father, bio of author), strangely enough, I felt myself wanting it to go even further in that direction. I found the alternation between interview sections and poems a bit too predictable.
When the author chose the title Underground, he was not using a metaphor. For, as he states at the beginning of the interview with Paul Roth: "As a child I lived in a cellar for seven years. We had intended to live in a house like everyone else, but my father broke his back and only the cellar was finished." (5) The cellar (the beneath) and the father (broken) are the two primary concerns or motifs of the book.
I have a slightly different take on the cellar-house. When I was two or 3 (1951) I moved into a new house with my parents and older sister. The house was situated in the middle of the block between a large old Victorian and a partially-built house. Our neighbors had moved into the basement of that house, much as Lawler's family had around the same time (1950s). I thought the house strange, but not particularly scary or negative. Our neighbors, too, undoubtedly hadn't had the money to complete their house all at once. However, their basement was a finished one and completely functional. It was bit dark, since the windows were the small ones common to Midwestern basements of the time. I don't remember how many years passed before the upstairs or real house was completed and the family next door moved in (and up). The middle child of that family became my first real playmate. Curious the underground house was, certainly, but our neighbors were in no way cellar-dwellers in the sense evoked by Patrick Lawler. One difference, perhaps, is that Lawler's cellar was, as he notes, the foundation of his grandparents' house that had once burned down. In other words, it wasn't the basement of a "new" house, but a remnant of an old one. The roof had at one time been a floor, rather than being a roof that would someday become a floor. Directions (up/down, inside/outside) here are consequential.
There's much language in Underground that I found appealing & evocative. The following is but a sample:
"but my destiny was to be a root."
"I'd take out/ the thin insides of pens for veins."
"I leave the rivers running all night."
"I watched things die around my father's hands."
"The ashtray crisscrossed with songlines"
I was the editor of this book, and it started with a night almost two and a half years ago when I read an interview with the author for The Bitter Oleander literary journal. So this is what I wrote for the preface:
"When I first read Patrick Lawler’s 2009 interview with Paul B. Roth in The Bitter Oleander Volume 15, No. 1, it was like a prose poem at an adagio tempo, but it was also like a memoir. It was pointed, profound, wry and artful moreso than any other interview I had ever read. It grew mo
I was the editor of this book, and it started with a night almost two and a half years ago when I read an interview with the author for The Bitter Oleander literary journal. So this is what I wrote for the preface:
"When I first read Patrick Lawler’s 2009 interview with Paul B. Roth in The Bitter Oleander Volume 15, No. 1, it was like a prose poem at an adagio tempo, but it was also like a memoir. It was pointed, profound, wry and artful moreso than any other interview I had ever read. It grew more fascinating because it was like discovering the author’s notes toward an autobiography, and these notes showed that many of his greatest poems, especially those about his father, were more literally autobiographical than I would have ever imagined. And with these illuminating notes, his poems became far more compelling.
Soon I felt it would do a great service for the poems and the interview to gather them into a book. In the light of the interview,
the poems became like a memoir made of poems. Meanwhile, the interview was so poetic that it was like prose poetry made by following the rules of memoir. So this book has evolved as a kind of a poetic autobiography about growing up underground, literally, with a father whose repressed traumas shaped a whole family. That underground life reminds one of what Auden once said of Yeats, “Mad Ireland hurt you into poetry.” One is also reminded of Sharon Olds’ insightful, wise, and sympathetic portrayals of her father, which inspired Patrick Lawler’s work for decades. This book shows one way that a son honestly and ultimately accepts a father, even with all of his torments, and becomes a man. It is a remarkable dual portrait of a son and a father that also shows the longterm consequences of wars, especially the unexpected sufferings caused by wars.
In the end, one increasingly admires the author who finds the courage to transform his compassion for a father into ever greater levels of insight. Including many notes of irony, humor, and even hope, the poems and the prose resound with astonishing wisdom and vision."
...more
I loved this book--wish I'd written it myself! WOW! The sweep of narrative and image, the dis-conjunctures, the imaging visuals! This is the story of a man who grew up in a basement, his father and his family. It is told in a series of interviews and poems. "To prepare for levitation, place one foot firmly in the air." And the book levitates the reader. :-D
Mar 02, 2012 06:10AM