indwelling

by Gillian Allnutt

Denise Levertov described Gillian Allnutt's poems as 'at once hard and delicate, like wrought iron'. Both serious and light in touch, humane and profound, this new collection explores the manifestations of the Spirit, tracing it back through the familiar world of Christianity to its roots in the shamanic. This journey goes 'about and roundabout': living in past and present simultaneously; seeking to marry masculine and feminine - in the figure of Mary Magdalene, say, or those of the almost ghostly mother and son in 'Steppe' or 'In Armenia'. The language of these poems inhabits the state, the indwelling, of meditation - that nest of thin air - berthing what, a moment ago, was neither here nor there. indwelling is Gillian Allnutt's first new collection since Wolflight (2007), included in her Bloodaxe retrospective How the Bicycle New & Selected Poems.

Genres: Poetry

71 pages, Paperback

First published November 22, 2013

Reviews

[J · Rating 4 out of 5]

Sorrow

It’s young.
It goes back to the earth’s beginning.
To the earth belonging.
To her.
Its feet, everywhere, on the parquet floor.
Maud, the world over.
The sea attaches itself to her.
An old medallion, the moon, reflects upon her.
Aristocratic.
A lost demesne.
On its delicate light chain, her lizard, her loon.



the shawl

of air and wool
her frail earthwhile
who promised her people
palanquin, purple and pull
and left them all
a little something fit for April
snowfall


*

[Mattea Gernentz · Rating 4 out of 5]

"delphinium / the heart, fleet, in its large domain / a grand meaulnes / summer, recalled, a light blue lent sea / of dust and shadow, now, the house / of doubtfulness" (in her kitchen, 30).

Allnutt begins with ekphrastic poems to paintings by Gwen John and Paula Modersohn-Becker, so how could this not be meant for me? Also, quotations from beloved Julian of Norwich!

"bitter, the heart's sweet thought of— / nothing but / the gold abyss of God / we waited quietly for" (Coronation, 38).

An enthralling read that was good for the soul. Allnutt's words, with the spareness of a windowpane, offer the horizon. It makes complete sense that Denise Levertov recommended this. I adored the spiritual resonances and obscure historical references: my favorite things.

Don't mind me, just tearing up over the beauty of "the heart's milk wood made welcome / as necessity / as strength of will / as summer in a jamjar on the table" (The Quiet Parisian, 12) and "like the heart, / the wedding-day of doubt, a study for it" (drawing, 14) and "the lustre of air / wild rose of earliest summer / loss, entrusted to her" (haar, 29).

Hallelujah for moments of divine presence, in words and in nature, after severe heartache and silence. I am left with Allnutt's meditation on Luke 24: Did not our heart burn within us?

"my heart / led out / among the iliads of light" (duduk, 47). #sealeychallenge2023