Franzlations [the imaginary Kafka parables], Gary Barwin, Craig Conley and Hugh Thomas
2011,
New Star Books, Vancouver BC
$19,
978-1-55420-062-7, 98 pages
reviewed by rob mclennan
Franzlations (Vancouver BC: New Star Books, 2011), a
poetry collaboration between the writers Gary Barwin,
Craig Conley and Hugh Thomas, subtitled “[the imaginary Kafka parables],” read
like an illustrated translation or even continuation of Kafka’s work. As the
back cover attests, the collection “takes the parables and aphorisms of Kafka
as a starting point and steps a few places to the left in order to reinvent
them.” Throughout the collection, poems react to Kafka’s own legendary ouvre, a
collection of work that was unpublished throughout his life, and supposedly
meant to be burnt upon his death. In Franzlations,
the three authors work through parables-as-koans,
extracting wisdoms from other wisdoms, such as: “They were offered the choice
between becoming kinds or servants. As everyone would, they said, ‘KINGS!’
Therefore, there are only kings in this world, who hurry about shouting to each
other—since there are only kings—orders that have become meaningless. They
would like to put an end to this miserable royalty of their s but will not because
of the other kings.”
You are in a large chair, reading.
Through the thin walls of your apartment, you can hear the voices of those in
the adjacent rooms, those in the rooms above and below. A
television, a boy practicing piano. Someone is speaking on the
telephone, arguing with someone else, perhaps across the country.
A dog barks. There is a long sigh.
Night falls and you discern other
voices, each less distinct as they become more distant, like the ripples of a
single dropped stone. After midnight, the moon rises. You listen even more
closely. There are the voices of shadows, voices like the bones of the body.
There are writers on the roof of the building, preparing to jump. Will they be
inscribed onto the pages of the sidewalk, or will they float forever?
It is difficult to know. You have only
these words.
There
are more than a couple of examples of two Canadian poets working together to
compose collaborative works, but very few examples of three, Canadian or
otherwise, and the only example I can think of is when poets, collaborators and
husband-and-wife Kim Maltman and Roo
Borson brought on Andy Patton as a third in 1990 to
become Pain-Not-Bread, producing the collection Introduction to the
Introduction to Wang Wei (London ON: Brick Books, 2000), another book
produced around the idea of an individual and his works. The three authors work
absurd movement, incredible wisdom and clarity, reading nearly as an extended
essay-as-response on the work of Franz Kafka. What might Kafka scholars think
of such a work, I’d wonder?
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