Level End

by Brian Oliu

Genres: Poetry

22 pages, Unknown Binding

First published January 1, 2012

About the author

Brian Oliu currently lives in Saint Paul, Minnesota. His publications include three chapbooks and five full-length collections of nonfiction, ranging on topics from Craigslist Missed Connections, to computer viruses, to the arcade game NBA Jam. He has two projects forthcoming in 2021: a collaborative chapbook on the Rocky films with the poet Jason McCall, “What Shot Did You Ever Take,” by The Hunger Press, and a full-length collection of essays, “Body Drop: Notes on Fandom and Pain in Professional Wrestling” by The University of North Carolina Press.

Reviews

[Jamie Grefe · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is a stunning read. Here are some thoughts: You read LEVEL END by Brian Oliu: the end, point of change, point of loss–the loss of love, memory-blur, or like the way a house sounds when it is emptied of what it possessed before you awoke, alone. It is in and through spaces such as water, sand, foreign lands, or a children’s song park where you slip into the labyrinth. Yes, this is the end. It is here where you confront final bosses, save points where hearts help, but fade, too. The music is always changes when you enter. The levels that you have completed, the missions and journeys along the way, are told in the context of this level end, this final boss or save point–the most crucial spot for reflection, for it is here where you could die or lose. (cont.)

[Downward · Rating 4 out of 5]

Level End is a chapbook of prose poetry, the content of which is structured around videogames of yesterday, those of final bosses and save points. There is a high/low culture transubstantiation that caused me to reconsider the nature of both; the formal application of (high) prose poetry to (low) video games, and vice versa, reflecting the nuance (as captured in poetry) of emotion and the (as captured in videogames) goal based structure that props up those emotions. Each new entrance to the boss level is greeted with a change in music, capturing both that moment in of childhood where you would grip the controller harder, pausing to wipe your palm sweat on your jean shorts, and that moment in adulthood when your internal music shifts to pounding hearts and rushing blood, the sounds of adrenaline. Good stuff here, if slight at 20 pages.

[C · Rating 3 out of 5]

Read as 3.5 stars. (I'm torn between 3 and 4 on this one - it may change when I reread it, which I plan to do...)

Scattered thoughts:

- I expected it to be a little more game-esque, honestly. I enjoy the odd moments, the idea of boss battles and save points... But it was described to me as a literary tome in the style of a video game strategy guide. I don't really see it as that - more of a string of experimental prose poems with tenuous links to gaming language.

- The last section was awesome. I was not truly excited about the collection until the end, but what an end it is.

- It is *really* short. I wished for there to be more. Particularly after that killer last section.

-Really beautifully printed by Origami Zoo Press, a press I am new to, but they apparently put together some gorgeous books.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

I thought this was really good, but short. I wanted more, more weirdness and more ideas than just boss battles and save points. I really think there's a ton here that's great, but weren't there originally going to be 32 essays?

That said, the essays that are here are very good: I really like the last essay in the book, and I recently taught and thought alot about the early boss battle with the lady with feathers and the save point at the inn. In both cases, I appreciated the language, the periodicity of it. When I read "So You Know It's me," I heard a lot of Ander Monson and Michael Martone in it. I hear less of that here, which, as much as I like those two writers, I think is a good thing.

[Tonee Mae Moll · Rating 4 out of 5]

I picked this book for the sake of its concept after hearing Brian speak at AWP. It was nothing like I expected it to be, and I loved it all the more because of this surprise.