A muscle’s “twitch force” is a measurement of its energy potential. It’s history you can forget it, but it’s engraved on you where you can’t see it, and all it wants to do is repeat. Scotiabank Giller Prize winner Michael Redhill’s first collection of poetry in eighteen years, Twitch Force has a gnomic, satirical, and lucid intelligence. In “Ingredients,” heredity’s recipe is told via short-form family narrative; in “My Arrangements,” a stolen laptop battery leads to an encounter with the Israeli Olympic women’s beach volleyball team; while in “The Women,” human beauty is parsed down to the level of “I’m beautiful; I have my mother’s feet. The women who change into men are beautiful men who were once beautiful women.” This is poetry concerned with love and its loss, despair and hard-won hope, knowledge and essential mystery, aging and timelessness. Readers are ideas that present as self-explanatory may be closer than they appear. Twitch Force is a stunningly realized return to the form from one of Canada’s bravest and most original poets.
Michael Redhill is an American-born Canadian poet, playwright and novelist.
Born in Baltimore, Maryland, Redhill was raised in the metropolitan Toronto, Ontario area. He pursued one year of study at Indiana University, and then returned to Canada, completing his education at York University and the University of Toronto. He was on the editorial board of Coach House Press from 1993 to 1996, and is currently the publisher and editor of the Canadian literary magazine Brick.
His play, Building Jerusalem, depicts a meeting between Karl Pearson, Augusta Stowe-Gullen, Adelaide Hoodless, and Silas Tertius Rand on New Year's Eve night just prior to the 20th century.
Bellevue Square is one of my all time favourite books so I was pretty excited to get this little book of poetry by the same author. Unfortunately it just didn't work for me. I didn't feel anything except the occasional mild amusement. I had no connection to any of the poems. It's not my cup of tea but don't let that stop you from reading this. I think it is likely quite clever but I just didn't get it.
Twitch Force is a lyrical passage through the author's mind, and ultimately life. Each poem is a sheaf of time, memory, and imaginative wonder. Much like the radio, scrolling through the stations and catching snippets of narrative. Twitch force is genuine in tone and raw in emotion. This collection of poetry is one I will revisit from time to time. Even so, I'll still feel to be scratching the brilliant surface of this poet. I've selected a few of my favorite lines (there were so many more!) and composed them into one poem:
'Let's pretend you're here with me right now, True things well said is what I thought poetry was for, We're vectors without exit coordinators, vanishings without a point
The problem with the foreground is I'm in it, He sent her away and kept her at the same time, Eros comes nowhere near this bliss,
Carried in my shadow like a violin in its black case, All stories are about an absence, Don't think of one that isn't.'
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
“I was in the hall mirror all yesterday, the next morning gone. The grade had steepened, things were sliding off. Everything looked normal if you held your head funny. My speech impediment makes others appear bowlegged to me. Run your tongue over my teeth, Try to talk like that…”
I know Michael Redhill primarily as a novelist, from his Inger Ash Wolfe literary crime mysteries to his most recent Bellevue Square that deals with mental health and identity disassociation, and I find his work just fascinating.
It is dark, and this poetry collection has a similar darkness to it: embodied existence weighs heavily, time and meaning are looming questions, but I can relate at times to this way of seeing the world. I don’t pretend to understand all the poems here, but I like them very much. They stretch my brain. My favorites in this collection are: “Askew” “Forms” “Charlatans” “Search Engines” “Plant Tomatoes Under a Full Moon” “Mycelium” “Scar Tissue” “Bitten” “Cunnilingus” and “Myodesopsia.”
Considering how I disliked Bellevue Square, I forgot the name of the author. This turned out to be a good thing as, intrigued by the title and cover, I grabbed this from a library display and checked it out without further consideration.
...one hand to lever myself up, one To hold me down.
From the poem Arm Pillow p40
There's a zest and vitality in these poems, even as they probe scientific dogma or the bleaker side, there is refreshment.
Under the fruit trees at night wind in the laurel moves from tree to tree, talking
From the poem The End p23
Verging on the mystical, too down to earth to stray to far, he declares:
The fun lies in seeing how far you can go off true and stay yourself
From the poem Charlatans p9
As much as he loves to play, MR contrives always to remain true to himself. And as much as he tends to mildly pontificate, he is open to a variety of new experiences.
This body and its grace of being I sing gratitude full of feeling for telomeres and collagen.p43
From his collaboration with the Gryphon Trio and their musical suite Scar Tissue, the poem Unity
...it only feels like things are staying still.p43
I was attracted to this book because of the author – last year, I read and enjoyed a novel by Michael Redhill, and so was interested to read his poetry.
Unfortunately, the poetry was not as enjoyable as the novel, nor as interesting as the cover art. The poems are very unstructured (or in some cases too structured) and there are no discernible themes or understandable stories. I persevered through to the end (the book is pretty short) but ultimately didn’t find anything poetic for me.