The Brave Never Write Poetry

by Daniel Jones

    The brave ride streetcars to jobs
    early in the morning, have traffic accidents,
    rob banks. The brave have children, relationships,
    mortgages. The brave never write these things
    down in notebooks. The brave die and they are
    dead.

First published in 1985, when Daniel Jones was just twenty-six, The Brave Never Write Poetry, the poet/critic/novelist’s lone collection of poems, was a cult hit, turning ‘poetry’ on its head before its author (then known simply as ‘Jones’) swore off verse entirely. Written in a direct, plainspoken, autobiographical and at times confessional style in the tradition of Charles Bukowski and Al Purdy, these confrontational poems about sex and boredom, drugs and suicide, document Jones’ depressive, alcoholic years as an enfant terrible.

This long overdue revised edition brings Jones’ unforgettable voice to a new generation of readers and includes the complete text of the original collection (including Jones’ own sardonic assessments of his own poetry) and a new postscript essay by poet/critic Kevin Connolly.

Genres: Poetry

96 pages, Paperback

Published April 14, 2007

About the author

Daniel Cameron Jones was born in Hamilton, Ontario, in 1959, and lived in Toronto from 1977 until his tragic suicide in 1994. His books include a collection of poetry, The Brave Never Write Poetry (Coach House), a novel, Obsessions (Mercury), and a collection of short stories, The People One Knows (Mercury). A former contributing editor to WHAT!, Piranha, and Border/Lines, Jones also edited and, with his wife, Robyn Gillam, co-published Streetcar Editions.

Reviews

[Bud Smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's a poem in here where the author decides to kill himself with a sawed off shotgun but someone on the street sees him with the gun in his mouth and calls the cops the cops come and he shoots them both with the shotgun and then his kitten plays with the dead bodies. Then-he writes a poem about it. Much thanks, Jones.

[DeadWeight · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Brave Never Write Poetry was panned upon its release. Critics found it puerile, self-indulgent, nihilistic. So maybe it was. Like I said in my recent comments on Bukowski, I think there's a vein of repression in the appraisal of poetry which I don't find conducive to approaching the human experience as expressed through language in good faith. As someone who has at one point spent time in the same wards as Mr. Jones, I can't help but think that "sometimes it do be like that." That said, the drinking and smoking does get a little exhausting eventually, and like Kevin Connoly's afterward suggests, these ain't all gems. There are at least some verifiable stinkers in the bunch, some lines, some whole poems.

Still, I think the righteousness with which Jones calls out the phonies is not misplaced. The institutions, their lackeys and students, the arts council hacks, the critics, they were and are all still phonies. Jones isn't without his own sense of humour about the callouts. He puts his hands up, exclaims: okay, I know, here I am — the navel-gazing artistic dissident, too insecure and bitter to play nice, pointing every finger at everyone but myself.

Daniel Jones took his own life in 1994.

[Nikki · Rating 4 out of 5]

Killer gallows humour. I can relate to this Jones character, and am sorry that he is dead.

[Jane · Rating 2 out of 5]

I found the poetry in this book a bit self indulgent and I also felt that it was purposely written to “shock” people. I bought this book when I was in university in the 80s after reading a review somewhere, and I am sure at the time I felt it was very avant-garde, but now it just seems immature and sad. There are a few decent poems in the first section, but I found the second and third sections were a lot of dross. Yet somehow I am not giving it only 1 star, but 2 stars (it was ok), because that’s how I felt - it was ok.

[Salty Swift · Rating 5 out of 5]

Daniel Jones's only collected volume of poetry is an assault on the sense. Brutal in its honest portrayal of depression, suicide attempts, love, loneliness and lust, it portrays a Canadian poet who unfortunately flew well below the radar.

[Անահիտ Ղազախեցյան · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lovely.

[Jonathan Ball · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Coach House republication of Jones's THE BRAVE NEVER WRITE POETRY contains an afterword by Kevin Connolly, in which he "distinctly recalls" one reviewer of the original 1985 publication "using the phrase 'I hate this author.'"

Jones's poetry is the kind that's engaging enough to hate, with viscera and vigour, but without pretensions, unless they are being parodied -- at his best Jones outshines Purdy (Jones appears to try less, and comes across as more authentic and self-aware). The title poem is a stunning work, and throughout the poems have a stunning energy and intelligence.

Jones's relative lack of literary activity (this is his only book of poems) is lamentable, for he had a wry, unique, unsettling, and even funny voice ("Someone give me the strength not to / apply to the Canada Council for the Arts"). Worth your poetry dollar even though the book slackens in the latter third and ends with a selection of underwhelming haiku.

[Amanda]

reissued by Coach House, thank goodness: http://www.chbooks.com/catalogue/brav...