If you’re familiar with this poet’s work, you’ll know what to expect: sharp, incisive pieces with an economy of language, tart takes on various aspects of modern life, and not a rainbow or a unicorn in sight. If you’re not familiar, you’re missing out.
Written between Istanbul and Belgrade, this collection picks up where its predecessor 'Forty Four' left off, riffing on matters as diverse as the lunacy of extreme wealth, night clubs for the follically challenged, and the age-old phenomenon of arithmetical piety. So without further ado, kindly step aboard, buckle up, and settle in for the ride.
Born and raised in Plymouth, England, Jan is a father, a husband, and a former poet. Readers enjoy his work for its directness and sense of humour, as well as its smooth, free-flowing prose.
Unsurprisingly, much of his back catalogue is poetry, with four collections, two narrative poems, two anthologies, and an instructional guide for children to his name.
More recently Jan has pivoted to fiction, starting with a collection of offbeat shorts before moving into darker territory, conceiving the Hartmouth Horrors series of standalone novellas, and it is on this twisted fare that he will be focusing for the foreseeable future.
I was lucky enough to get to read an ARC for this book of poetry as I am a fan of Jan's work. So feel free to consider me biased if you like.
This poet is a clever bugger. And he knows it. And he's happy if you know it too. He has a dry, incisive way of writing, poking crooked fun at the world around him.
His vocabulary is second to none, in fact it might be better than mine. He uses it deftly, playing with words in a complex yet accessible way. Articles and Nontoid are great examples of how well he plays with words.
Gone is so very poignant, moving. Hubris made me snort, perhaps I can see myself in there too. Hooded Crow was perhaps my favourite as it had an element of whimsy in there, which is a rarity in Jan's poetry.
His strength comes in his parodying of real life, and in that he is as skilful as Chaucer, Shakespeare and Austen. Manhandled is a great example of it and I enjoyed it immensely.
As ever this is a great collection, from the epigraph through to the ever shifting hysterical bio. If you like parody delivered in a deadpan voice, seasoned with clever wordage and quiet emotion, this is the poet for you.
I never expected to describe a collection of poetry as “welcoming,” but this is it. Jan Miklaszewicz’s Istangrade (penned between Istanbul and Belgrade) is a wheeling journey between transcendent and mundane, but it’s always fully human (meaning grumpy and gruff, but with heart). Miklaszewicz’s emotions are relatable, even if the exact scenarios of his poems are foreign.
I am struck by the extremes of Istangrade : it’s both masculine and sincere, funny and probing. Highlights for me are THE URGE (destruction calls to all of us), WONDER (our subjective view of the world colors our emotional experience of it), GONE (not slowing down to feel the pain), and THE SCENT OF A MAN (a simple domestic object finally brings a man from crashing action to contemplation).
Highly recommended to those who wish to experience the wonder of seeing an artist articulate precise feeling in a few sparse lines, time and time again.