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Madness, anxiety and poetry

Joanne Limburg reviews two new collections of poetry

August 21, 2017 11:14
9781784102081
2 min read

In All My Mad Mothers, Jacqueline Saphra’s new collection has its perfect title poem. The mother described in each of its seven self-contained, four-line stanzas is at once one mother and a multiplicity of mothers; she is both movingly real and exuberantly imagined. She is a joyously mad mother, pictured “trying to catch the sun”, and making “rainbow chokers” for her daughters out of dead fruit flies, but also a mother who “barely spoke between her bruises” and, by the last line, is discovered trying “to ease her way into this world. Or out of it.”

A series of prose poems make a corridor through the middle of the book, offering glimpses into an eventful upbringing colourfully populated with mothers and fathers, many of the step variety. The book as a whole is divided into four sections, allowing Saphra to focus in turn on different stages of life and the relationships we form and lose in them: as well as parents, we meet friends, lovers, partners and children; some of the book’s “mad mothers” are depicted in the first person.

To capture the richness of life in relationship, Saphra deploys a variety of poetic forms, sensual language and a satisfying breadth of imagery.

Anthony Rudolf’s poetry, collected in European Hours, is informed by a much starker aesthetic. His lines are typically short and spare; they are often printed with a wide left-hand margin, drawing attention to the white space around them. In one early poem, Invisible Ink, Rudolf might be alluding to this, when he suggests that “Silence is//the deepest structure of them all.”