A Book of Witness: Spells & Gris-Gris

by Jerome Rothenberg

A landmark collection by one of America's leading avant-gardists. A Book of Spells & Gris-Gris is Jerome Rothenberg's passage from one centuryone millenniumto another. Of the one hundred poems that comprise the book, the first half were written in 1999, the second in the two years that followed. But far more than a marker of era-shifting, it is a collection that reestablishes the primacy of the poetic "I," not in the sense of a confessional, personal voice, but of the grammatical first person as both a singular witness and conduit for othersa kind of prophecy. Often incantatory, the poems in A Book of Witness are a reaffirmation of self in the face of history's darknesses, a shout for life against an indifferent universe.

Genres: Poetry

128 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 2003

About the author

Jerome Rothenberg is an internationally known American poet, translator and anthologist who is noted for his work in ethnopoetics and poetry performance.

Reviews

[Nicholas Grooms · Rating 5 out of 5]

This poet is proof that you can write great poems without making them too artsy or burying them in layers of hidden meaning. His style is incredibly enchanting and leaves you wanting to read more. I really enjoy reading this one.

[Boxhuman · Rating 4 out of 5]

A Book of Witness: Spells and Gris-gris by Jerome Rothenberg

I had tried to read Seedings a few months ago, but never really connected to it, so I never finished it. I grabbed A Book of Witness last month, not realizing that it was the same author (I had forgotten the poet’s name by then), so it was a surprise when I finally made the connection. Book is very different from what I had read in its predecessor, the style is not as disconnected and airy, the emotions are much more clear and solid. While still free verse, the poems were longer and the body connected in one, long stream, but without becoming cumbersome or difficult to read – in fact, it’s a very easy read. That’s not to discredit the content; the poems are strong, hungry, insecure, and introspective. I liked the quotes he peppered in, adding more emotion to his poems.

“The Case for Memory” kicked the book off, which had a good beat and opening the book for the true potential I felt it lived up to. “The Burning House” had a good rhythm, but also showed fierceness: “I scratch fire &/remove it from your throat” and “You cannot stand/back of the burning/house from which/strangers emerge/like wolves/to run you down.” “There is Never Enough Time” was fantastic , especially the ending. “Enhancing the Pleasure” was a fun romp in sexuality. “The Message of Slaves” is full of darkness and rust (“Every factory/more dirty/than the last./I am caught between/too many circuits.”) “The Search For Truth” was a gem. “The Fire Deep Inside” was loud, starting off with “I like to crack my words/between my teeth.” “What Was Begun In Anger” really struck me with the line, “I call on history/the way some call/on God./What was begun/in anger/now brings peace.”I adored “Eager to Break Through Language” and “I Will Not Eat My Poem” has a brilliant quote by A. Artaud. “The Voice Inside” is rude, but endearing, starting off with “I fart because/the voice inside/is outraged./I discharge my oracles.” I really liked “Therefore I Am” but was looking for a more powerful ending. “Cursing the Light” was refreshing and down-to-earth, a painful line torn from it: “I walk the stupid/last mile/into heaven/cursing the light/that blinds me.””I made a rhyme/of womb/& slaughter,/filling in/the empty sounds” from “In The Way Words Rhyme” really stuck out, too. Lastly, on page 94, I enjoyed the rough and sore line, “The mark of teeth on flesh/signals our end.”

There are a few clunkers, especially when he loses the flavor at the very end. “A Town Called Meter” didn’t really flow well. “I Come Into The New World” made me grimace with the line, “Like a clock my heart/moves closer/to the burning babe/& stays there.” “I Leave No Time For Pleasure” was one of his weakest and the ending, surprisingly, unimpressive (“I am what I am/& you are watch me/with scorn”). Also the line, “My blues are in my shoes” made me roll my eyes. “I Vent My Wraith on Animals” was a signal that the book was wearing out. He also has a set of words repeated throughout the book; usually the images of mirrors, sex, darkness, and shadows.

However, one thing I noticed early on is that he’s brilliant when it comes to ending a poem. I was constantly wowed by his endings. Premonition became a little muddled, but he saved it at the end: “A thousand bodies/hanging/from a thousand trees/ended the dream.” The ending of “When We Do One Plus Two” resonates long afterward: “I call the gods to witness/& when they do/I let them die.” Another amazing ending came from “I Hold Dark Matter” (even though the whole poem was really good): The stars stay dark/in mirrors/until your fingers/counting them/have dropped away.”

In conclusion, I enjoyed it much, much more than Seedings and I thought it was terrific. I look forward to owning it in the future.

[Amira Hanafi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rothenberg responds to critiques of the "I" with 100 narrow poems written in the first person. There are perhaps a thousand voices in this book, at least a hundred. The short lines send you through each poem like speeding through a tunnel, I'm thinking of the Lincoln Tunnel, the lights along the top of the walls flashing by as you drive. (This is not rush hour. This is the middle of the night, and you are under the Hudson.) Now you're out of the tunnel, and you want to look back and read what you passed. But there's the next tunnel in front of you. You're in it already, these repeating tunnels where voices report echoes: what they did, what they felt, moving through crowded world...breathless. I want to choose one that is me. One that is me is all of them. I enclose the whole world in every poem. I am everything and no one is me.

2 thoughts for further thought: Rothenberg uses lines from other writers in almost every poem. He cites the authors in the margins. Is what it does too small? a record of what he read, his own lines are bold, and this appropriation doesn't change much. a processional record?

100 poems is a lot. They lose a little steam in the second half. They lose a lot of steam by the end. Repetition of concept or language is not a problem, but Rothenberg gets stuck in a particular rhythm by the end, no longer breaking out of it, no longer breaking syntax, the poems now lull.

But I loved it. I took it as slow as I could, stopping often. I ate them up. The titles are fantastic. The overall idea of split, multi-faceted, constantly shifting identity was accomplished, in beautiful detail.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found my way to Rothenberg after reading a very different kind of poem dedicated to him by Julie Doxsee and sort of misreading what in her poem was indebted to R. But that said, I'm glad to have found this book, a collection of fifties poems written in 1999, and another fifty written in the next two years that purport to tackle two sides of the millenium.

I don't think writing a hundred poems in two years (or really, three) is necessarily an accomplishment, but it does suggest a certain tossed off quality, kind of like O'Hara's lunch poems, and there's some of that here-- maybe of these poems feel very quick, very occasional, capturing Rothenberg's reflections on a particular moment or else the course of a thought as it runs astray. What makes it notable and poetic, though, is that these moments lead Rothenberg to a kind of lyrical intensity that is pretty heated-- nearly all of these poems build to bold pronouncements and obviously are records of the poet being deeply moved, even if what is moving him remains obscured-- unlike O'Hara, there's little of the visible world in these poems, and they are almost entirely taken up with internal landscapes of thought and emotion.

For me, that made the experience of these poems a little mysterious-- I didn't know what I was reading, a lot of the time-- but throughout the poems, at least in the best ones, there's an electricity there, and that's what I read for, once I got into the swing of it. There's a mainline of energy here, coursing through these tossed off poems, and I found that to be pretty appealing.

[Mika · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was just ok poetry.

[Greg Bem · Rating 5 out of 5]

I felt my insides candidly learning the shape of the Other and the appropriation and dispossession of the personal pronoun, self becoming one ray in life's beam of light.