Marcella Polain was born in Singapore and immigrated to Perth when she was two years old, with her Armenian mother and Irish father. She has a background in theatre and screen writing, and has lectured in the Writing program at Edith Cowan University. She was founding WA editor for the national poetry journal Blue Dog, has been poetry editor for Westerly and was inaugural editor for the WA journal Indigo. She has published essays on writing and completed her PhD at the University of Western Australia in 2006.
The seven-eight count of unstoppable sadness – A Review
Dr Fiona Erica Nichols
This collection of poetry contains within it, a six part ethology which encompasses love & grief applied to the human condition. This piece of work is an effigy of something greater than pen can put into words. It’s imagery is full of cats and birds, which probably echoes the poet’s affinity and love for such. Thematically these animals make an appearance in a lot of the work, which begs the question whether birds on some level are not being hunted by the cat that may represent the author themselves.
Symbolically, cats represent grace, intelligence, cunningness and independence which is most certainly indicative of its writer. On the other hand, birds are seen as intermediaries between the earth and the sky, which begs the question if this is not prelude to one of the later poems which mentions the world tree from Armenian myth which holds up the sky. I believe that these symbolic animals were creatively and purposefully included in the anthology to create context as well as self-insertion into the work. This is a very cleverly used literary device in the author’s work.
Polain leaves the seven-eight count to the imagined spaces of the mind as this naturally the progression of the piece, however, this comes from such imagery in the poem entitled “trees”. The poetry is free form poetry without rhyme but not without astonishing iambic pentameter. The form that words take on the page is purposefully constructed to create visual effect while reading and surveying the page.
This author was born in Singapore to an Armenian mother and Irish father and even though she is an immigrant, the work has an extremely flavoursome Western Australia echo to it with mentions of indigenous trees & wildlife. Not only does this anthology reflect Australia, it also imparts us with a feel for different places Marcella may have visited and her perception of her travels and impression of a different world according to geographical preference.
This work has multi-layered facets to it – It does not fall short of brilliance! This is not a light read for the faint hearted. 5 stars.
The evocative narrative within Marcella Polain’s the seven-eight count of unstoppable sadness delves into the inescapable depths of sorrow and the author’s search for love, gratitude, hope, and acceptance.
The collection is categorized into six sections (each part a count) with each exploring different interpersonal relationships and stages of sorrow in Polain’s life.
The title also uses a rhythmic ‘seven-eight count’ to imply a structured or measured approach to experiencing sadness. The term ‘unstoppable sadness’ suggests that the emotion is relentless, persistent, and overwhelming. The juxtaposition of a structured, rhythmic count with the uncontrollable nature of sadness reflects the tension between order and chaos, control and vulnerability, in the human experience of profound emotions.
Grief is one of the most profound emotions felt throughout the collection. Polain’s poetry conveys a sense of powerlessness or inability to control or mitigate the depth of sadness. In haunting, there is a lingering presence of a departed loved one, the struggle to find solace in memories:
all days have been your last – your strike that sent me across the room your kiss to the top of our mother’s head your tyres on the gravel – even the happy when I run lift my face to sky I know is only sky not curtain blue howl screen when I don’t watch – there; no there – for a glimpse of you
how much life it’s taken dim-witted me to see why you will never come to see I’ve done the haunting
the seven-eight count of unstoppable sadness serves as a lens through which to explore the complexities of sorrow. This exploration delves into the depths of despair while simultaneously hinting at the author’s desire for solace amidst the pain; knowing one cannot escape pain while still acknowledging one’s yearning for it to be lulled.