from Tumultétudes: The Chips & Ties Study, Margaret
Christakos
2012, BookThug,
Toronto ON
$12,
978-1-927040-34-8, 40 pages
reviewed by rob mclennan
Finding out she. Registering it. what if and how. Is
it
deathful? Who’s in charge?
Who’s to blame.
They who
stay.
Possibly not
much.
One of those
doors. Is it
unreasonable?
When your parent’s dying (maybe) it’s hard to remember
your own
identity.
Ride the
ties. (“3 Lineups”)
Margaret Christakos’ new chapbook, from Tumultétudes: The Chips & Ties Study (Toronto ON: BookThug, 2012), is an accumulative study of home and
family, Northern Ontario, parents and corresponds with the author spending
extended periods at the Christakos homestead. Her short texts dismantle her
responses into a series of notes, breakdowns and studies, composing broken
words and letters, composing broken lines, “the letters / that make / the
difference” (np). Christakos collages rhythms,
repetitions and songs, stitching variations, for example, on William
Wordsworth’s “I wandered lonely as a cloud” in a Northern Ontario sequence.
Sketching out property, family and death, she opens the collection with “Now
that each person has / been fully // identified,” later, opening the poem “Jan
17 5:08pm,” subtitled “Sudbury – camp
whiteout” with “To first fine and then / identify each relative // Is it
history of interest to any // Will it accrue to you…as in,” and the poem “3
Lineups,” writing: “Did you see one of these / wandering lonely as a crowd / on
the night you drove old Dixie down?” Christakos slips the
blur between meaning and pure language, writing geographic wilderness and rail,
memory and fencelines, in a collage that stretches
out a portrait of what possibly might be home.
These read very much like sketches towards a
longer, larger piece, perhaps excerpted for the sake of chapbook publication,
or even a whole section of a manuscript-in-progress, her suggested Tumultétudes, Christakos’ lyric, musical study
triggered by being upended. For Toronto writer Christakos, whose previous work
has explored and deconstructed her more immediate spaces of marriage, home, the
domestic and family, it’s interesting to watch her gaze shift back, to earlier
points, connecting her Northern Ontario past and her parents, “Not drowning [ but / owning, up to history’s sequence / of plenty for
some [.]” Phil Hall once suggested that once we enter our forties, our gaze
turns back, and Christakos is a highly skilled writer, sketching out a wide
canvas in short bursts that doesn’t need to show every
connection for those same connections to absolutely hold.
Born
in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives
in Ottawa. The author of more than twenty trade books of poetry, fiction and
non-fiction, he won the John Newlove Poetry Award in 2011, and his most recent
titles are the poetry collections Songs for little sleep, (Obvious
Epiphanies, 2012), grief notes: (BlazeVOX
[books], 2012), A (short) history of l. (BuschekBooks,
2011), Glengarry (Talonbooks, 2011) and kate street (Moira, 2011), and a second
novel, missing persons (2009). An editor and publisher, he runs
above/ground press, Chaudiere Books (with Jennifer Mulligan), The Garneau Review (ottawater.com/garneaureview),
seventeen seconds: a journal of poetry and poetics (ottawater.com/seventeenseconds) and the Ottawa poetry pdf annual ottawater (ottawater.com).
He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the
University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and
other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com