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Sensorial: A Poetry Collection
Sensorial is a journey in sensory perception. The senses guide us through urban landscapes, animal connections and familial bonds as we consider who we are, where we are--both physically and metaphysically--and what truly matters. Sensorial proposes one set of responses to the never-ending data we process as we navigate through life. In particular, it considers aging and illness on the journey towards life's end--and examines gain and loss in the aggregate.
"Some things you just can’t know"so begins Sensorial, a three-part meditation on our role as both spectator and participant in a world of inequity and injustice. Each poem is a finely wrought tableau where "sensations galvanize" and absolutes have no part. At the heart of the collection is a daughter's complicated relationship with her father and the myriad prisms of that relationship. Tackling a wide range of personal and social themes from loneliness to homelessness to disease and death and the "fault lines[s]" of marriage, Van Der Meer combines a keen narrative sense and an eye for imagery to produce a fine collection infused with compassion and hope."
Carolyn Marie Souaid, author of The Eleventh Hour and Yasmeen Haddad Loves Joanasi Maqaittik
- GenresPoetry
104 pages, Paperback
Published May 31, 2022
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
May 12, 2022
Carolyne Van Der Meer’s latest poetry collection, Sensorial, is dedicated to her late father who died in 2019. He is a continual presence in these poems appearing in unexpected places until in a series of poems in the last section, Connection, she confront her difficult connection with her father and recounts with great tenderness and understanding his decline towards the end.
In the first poem in the collection, “Finding Atlantis”, set on a bus trip in Mexico, the poet tells us why she is there: “I was escaping. The death of my father/ weighed heavily. Art. Paradise. /I needed to create in / his honour, his memory.”
But there is no escape, he remains with her, entwined with the difficulties she encounters until having safely navigated those difficulties, her father and herself find some peace:
“My father swims in the lagoon /and before he leaves me for good, / he waves.”
The collection’s three sections, Navigation, Exploration and Connection speak of a lifetime of journeying, (her previous collection was called “Journeywoman”) seeking signposts and connections in disparate places and with unexpected people. Van Der Meer is an expert at seeing the connection in unusual places, in finding a signpost, to the past, to a different place, whereever she navigates. And she navigates widely, to Mexico, Dominican Republic, even a “quaint Portuguese café” in Montreal named after the explorer, Vasco de Gama.
Van Der Meer has a keen eye and ear for the good story, the incident which can be mined for a reflective poem, a comment which is both particular to the event but also universal in its application. In “Let Her Sleep” Ruth Priscilla Colbath, the abandoned wife, “asks herself questions every day” as this poet does. In “The Strength of Dragons” Joseph Mary Plunkett, the Irish 1916 executed rebel, tells his new bride, Grace Gifford “you believed, never refuted me/ for another’s inadequate music/ remembered me long after I vanished/ into execution’s lair”.
The final section, especially the poems on her father are the highlight of the collection.
In spite of the fact that “She was never really close to him” (Parkinson’s Disease) she still recounts some tender memories as the memory of her father shaving in “Learning to Shave”, the sharing of a loving moment of fun and closeness “and what I rarely saw—a laughing man”. The meticulous details add to the sense of regret “Briefly the reddish-brown skin on his neck/ holed by a pigment defect, is covered”.
In “Parkinson’s Disease” the sadness of the realization that now when “she finds/ her anger dissipated, disappeared” it is too late to bridge the gap, have a heart to heart conversation because of the ravages of the disease and the approach of dementia. All she gets in return for care and concern is “a hollow // look in those /glassy blue eyes”. The change in their relationship is further developed in “The Father Who Cried Wolf” when he begs for her help over the phone.
The beautiful final poem where sitting by his bedside near the end she is grateful for the calm which has settled “a peace/ you could not have achieved/ in your waking moments.” - Michael Farry
In the first poem in the collection, “Finding Atlantis”, set on a bus trip in Mexico, the poet tells us why she is there: “I was escaping. The death of my father/ weighed heavily. Art. Paradise. /I needed to create in / his honour, his memory.”
But there is no escape, he remains with her, entwined with the difficulties she encounters until having safely navigated those difficulties, her father and herself find some peace:
“My father swims in the lagoon /and before he leaves me for good, / he waves.”
The collection’s three sections, Navigation, Exploration and Connection speak of a lifetime of journeying, (her previous collection was called “Journeywoman”) seeking signposts and connections in disparate places and with unexpected people. Van Der Meer is an expert at seeing the connection in unusual places, in finding a signpost, to the past, to a different place, whereever she navigates. And she navigates widely, to Mexico, Dominican Republic, even a “quaint Portuguese café” in Montreal named after the explorer, Vasco de Gama.
Van Der Meer has a keen eye and ear for the good story, the incident which can be mined for a reflective poem, a comment which is both particular to the event but also universal in its application. In “Let Her Sleep” Ruth Priscilla Colbath, the abandoned wife, “asks herself questions every day” as this poet does. In “The Strength of Dragons” Joseph Mary Plunkett, the Irish 1916 executed rebel, tells his new bride, Grace Gifford “you believed, never refuted me/ for another’s inadequate music/ remembered me long after I vanished/ into execution’s lair”.
The final section, especially the poems on her father are the highlight of the collection.
In spite of the fact that “She was never really close to him” (Parkinson’s Disease) she still recounts some tender memories as the memory of her father shaving in “Learning to Shave”, the sharing of a loving moment of fun and closeness “and what I rarely saw—a laughing man”. The meticulous details add to the sense of regret “Briefly the reddish-brown skin on his neck/ holed by a pigment defect, is covered”.
In “Parkinson’s Disease” the sadness of the realization that now when “she finds/ her anger dissipated, disappeared” it is too late to bridge the gap, have a heart to heart conversation because of the ravages of the disease and the approach of dementia. All she gets in return for care and concern is “a hollow // look in those /glassy blue eyes”. The change in their relationship is further developed in “The Father Who Cried Wolf” when he begs for her help over the phone.
The beautiful final poem where sitting by his bedside near the end she is grateful for the calm which has settled “a peace/ you could not have achieved/ in your waking moments.” - Michael Farry
September 23, 2021
Carolyne Van Der Meer is among the best poets writing in Canada today. She shares the genius of Margaret Avison in bringing together the spiritual and the mundane, sometimes in startling juxtaposition. Her technical dexterity is unequalled, as she ranges from writing so terse the words sting, to writing so flowing they sing. Lines often break in the middle without notice, in a kind of subversive caesura. Form follows function; less is invariably more. In “Pantoum for the Homeless,” she turns a rigid archaic verse form into a fluid and intimate account of life gone pathetically wrong. Sharing details of a menu in Montreal, thoughts while eating pizza on the Champs Elysée, silences of the soul, she hovers between the particular and the universal, sharing uneasy familiarity with both. Thoroughly cosmopolitan, she evokes in a few words a story behind tea at Harrods more haunting than the touching story we’re told. Sometimes unnervingly personal she shares with searing directness an unspoken dialogue at her father’s deathbed that rivals Dorothy Livesay’s last words to her own father, Irving Layton’s to his mother. Sensorial arouses the senses, but also, evoking the title’s homophone.It is censorial and confident in exposing the ambiguities of moral judgment. Each poem stands on its own, yet each speaks to the others. Seldom has a collection of diverse poems conveyed such a remarkably unified sensibility. Carolyn Van Der Meer is in her prime, and long may she be so. —John Moss
August 8, 2022
Sensorial by Carolyne Van Der Meer (Inanna Publications)
Sensorial is a lyrical and poignant love story to life. I can imagine the poet reading in a smoke-filled café while Leonard Cohen strums an accompaniment in the background.
‘Sensorial. Adjective. Of or relating to sensation or the senses: sensational, sensitive, sensory, sensual, sensuous.’
This collection is all that and more, stimulating memories of childhood, guiding your palette to savour exquisite delights that in reality, are not yet experienced by the reader but feel completely vivid. Familial bonds are traced through the years, a treasure trove of precious memories, folded in tissue paper and a delight to unwrap and hold aloft. The complexity and sadness of aging parents is deftly and beautifully highlighted.
Imagine being homeless, imagine yourself “in the jaws of a tiger to stave off the daily trudge”, imagine tea at Harrods or a wharf in Brockville. But don’t just imagine, read Sensorial.
Sensorial is a lyrical and poignant love story to life. I can imagine the poet reading in a smoke-filled café while Leonard Cohen strums an accompaniment in the background.
‘Sensorial. Adjective. Of or relating to sensation or the senses: sensational, sensitive, sensory, sensual, sensuous.’
This collection is all that and more, stimulating memories of childhood, guiding your palette to savour exquisite delights that in reality, are not yet experienced by the reader but feel completely vivid. Familial bonds are traced through the years, a treasure trove of precious memories, folded in tissue paper and a delight to unwrap and hold aloft. The complexity and sadness of aging parents is deftly and beautifully highlighted.
Imagine being homeless, imagine yourself “in the jaws of a tiger to stave off the daily trudge”, imagine tea at Harrods or a wharf in Brockville. But don’t just imagine, read Sensorial.
June 27, 2022
This month, I had the privilege of introducing Carolyne's collection, Sensorial, at its launch at Librairie Bertrand. Below is a short analysis of the book, which I wrote in preparation for the event. The launch was a huge success and I was proud to be a part of it.
*
Sensory, sensational, sensitive. Sensorial shows the extraordinary in the ordinary. It should be no surprise that the perceptual experience is front and centre in this latest poetry collection. Sights, sounds, smells, textures—they are the first tools we use in understanding our world, and they are most attuned in Carolyne’s poems. The immediacy of the senses is balanced with an underlying but powerful gift of empathy. As a result, Sensorial radiates curiosity.
The author's compassion comes across as vibrant and inspiring. The poems in Sensorial are styled as fragments of awareness, detailed enough to capture city life with photograph likeness—with all its beauty, colours, personality, complete with its ugliness, wear, and cruelty.
Treading the ground between the personal and purely aesthetic, these poems often centre themselves on archetypal women, who embody the modern struggles and triumph of their real-life sisters everywhere. Carolyne’s generous perspective never strays from a balanced view, and though the poems are focalized through women, men demonstrate their own kindness, curiosity, and patience—except, of course, when it runs out. Evoking a thoroughly feminine spirituality, Carolyne creates a multifaceted picture, even of grief.
The volume is dedicated to her late father. The complexity, the necessary contradiction of loving someone who deserves both admiration and admonishment forms the last section of this book. Poems here are in turn confessional and conversational, in a tone that varies from banter to mourning, and they never compromise their quality.
As much as any reader (or listener) can appreciate the power of the emotions Carolyne communicates, one should not overlook the technical skill necessary to create such pieces.
The deftness is often in the details, and such is the case for Sensorial. Carolyne engages in a minimalist aesthetic, allowing the settings and character to take up the room they need. Most importantly, the poems are written without judgment, without forced repetition, and certainly without any dreaded call-to-action. In a time when most of us are overwhelmed by image, information, and media, where shaming is commonplace and virtue-signaling a past-time, Carolyne cuts through the distortion to show the humanity of every human being.
Carolyne confided in me that there is something natural about poetry for her. She wasn't trying to say it was easy, but that the brevity and gravity of the form seems to require so little artifice that it can deliver on subjects that matter, in a way that matters. She says she wants her poems to strike, even if you read them while sitting.
The minimal lines—sometimes only two or three syllables—do justice to her thought process, as well as allow the poems to breathe and to reflect the speed and dynamism of thought. Such rapid pacing allows the images to become the drama, where colour, texture, and distance stand in for love, fear, and conflict.
Such riveting work! I look forward to reading more.
*
Sensory, sensational, sensitive. Sensorial shows the extraordinary in the ordinary. It should be no surprise that the perceptual experience is front and centre in this latest poetry collection. Sights, sounds, smells, textures—they are the first tools we use in understanding our world, and they are most attuned in Carolyne’s poems. The immediacy of the senses is balanced with an underlying but powerful gift of empathy. As a result, Sensorial radiates curiosity.
The author's compassion comes across as vibrant and inspiring. The poems in Sensorial are styled as fragments of awareness, detailed enough to capture city life with photograph likeness—with all its beauty, colours, personality, complete with its ugliness, wear, and cruelty.
Treading the ground between the personal and purely aesthetic, these poems often centre themselves on archetypal women, who embody the modern struggles and triumph of their real-life sisters everywhere. Carolyne’s generous perspective never strays from a balanced view, and though the poems are focalized through women, men demonstrate their own kindness, curiosity, and patience—except, of course, when it runs out. Evoking a thoroughly feminine spirituality, Carolyne creates a multifaceted picture, even of grief.
The volume is dedicated to her late father. The complexity, the necessary contradiction of loving someone who deserves both admiration and admonishment forms the last section of this book. Poems here are in turn confessional and conversational, in a tone that varies from banter to mourning, and they never compromise their quality.
As much as any reader (or listener) can appreciate the power of the emotions Carolyne communicates, one should not overlook the technical skill necessary to create such pieces.
The deftness is often in the details, and such is the case for Sensorial. Carolyne engages in a minimalist aesthetic, allowing the settings and character to take up the room they need. Most importantly, the poems are written without judgment, without forced repetition, and certainly without any dreaded call-to-action. In a time when most of us are overwhelmed by image, information, and media, where shaming is commonplace and virtue-signaling a past-time, Carolyne cuts through the distortion to show the humanity of every human being.
Carolyne confided in me that there is something natural about poetry for her. She wasn't trying to say it was easy, but that the brevity and gravity of the form seems to require so little artifice that it can deliver on subjects that matter, in a way that matters. She says she wants her poems to strike, even if you read them while sitting.
The minimal lines—sometimes only two or three syllables—do justice to her thought process, as well as allow the poems to breathe and to reflect the speed and dynamism of thought. Such rapid pacing allows the images to become the drama, where colour, texture, and distance stand in for love, fear, and conflict.
Such riveting work! I look forward to reading more.
November 26, 2022
This beautiful collection is told in three parts: Navigation, Exploration and Connection. In the first chapter of poems, we meet drunk poets, Montreal paperboys and street preachers. Van Der Meer's poetry is vivid and sensual:
"She walks on a bed of imaginary nails
to wake her from the winter darkness" (p. 26, from the poem "Winter in Montreal")
The collection's second part, Exploration, tells of moments caught and days lost:
"Maybe her years are catching her
But memories glisten in her clouded eyes" (p. 44, "Tea at Harrods")
In the book's twilight chapter "Connection", the author skillfully makes grief tangible in poems about caring for an elderly parent and of losing a father:
"He just wanted to listen
be alone in the rhythm
the lyrics" (p. 70, "Johnny Cash, Ottawa Ex, 1979")
Having lost my own father to Parkinson's, I could relate to Van Der Meer's poetry, which is brave, poignant and honest.
This is a poetry collection that I will lovingly revisit again. Highly recommended.
"She walks on a bed of imaginary nails
to wake her from the winter darkness" (p. 26, from the poem "Winter in Montreal")
The collection's second part, Exploration, tells of moments caught and days lost:
"Maybe her years are catching her
But memories glisten in her clouded eyes" (p. 44, "Tea at Harrods")
In the book's twilight chapter "Connection", the author skillfully makes grief tangible in poems about caring for an elderly parent and of losing a father:
"He just wanted to listen
be alone in the rhythm
the lyrics" (p. 70, "Johnny Cash, Ottawa Ex, 1979")
Having lost my own father to Parkinson's, I could relate to Van Der Meer's poetry, which is brave, poignant and honest.
This is a poetry collection that I will lovingly revisit again. Highly recommended.
July 29, 2023
Carolyne's writing is raw and emotive. She chooses concise phrases to describe complex human experiences. Regardless of whether you are a regular reader of poetry, I think anyone can take away something meaningful from this collection.
October 13, 2022
The poet's voice is clairvoyant, luminous, profound, and friendly. I appreciate each poem's exquisite delicacy for its flow, ambience, texture, and craft. I wish the book never ends.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews