Written to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the Transcontinental Railroad, Utah Poet Laureate Paisley Rekdal’s “West: A Translation” is certainly one of the most interesting poetry books I have read this year. Whether it is successful or not is more a matter of taste than effort, and while it isn’t the kind of poetry I would normally enjoy, I found the meticulous scholarship included to expand my experience of the book immensely.
One of my favorite essays of this year was a piece published in Artforum critiquing the rise of research-based art in contemporary art museums. With the rise of professionalization and graduate programs, fledgling artists who attend MFAs and PhDs in studio art now immerse themselves in collecting, indexing, and historizing artifacts to produce various ends. I go to museums often and have often disliked these pieces - more drawn to craft, I balk at reading numerous placards trying to weave links between collected objects as much as I detest sitting down to watch video art on a cathode tv. I don’t make the time for it, and have rarely felt rewarded by this kind of art in a museum setting. The author of this essay goes on to describe numerous weakness in these kinds of work ranging from the privilege of attending these programs to the disorderliness of their contents. As a viewer, I frankly just find them boring.
I will make an exception to this same idea playing out in a book format. I don’t have to stand in a museum or pay for a ticket, and have all the time in the world to move through it. It’s what made Jenny Odell’s book on the attention economy successful for me, although I’m unsure I would appreciate her art in person.
I bring this all up to say why Rekdal’s book, which I normally wouldn’t like, was so successful for me. I do not know a lot about her process when she created these poems, and I suspect that many of these were found works reappropriated and rearranged at the author’s will. That I couldn’t tell which was which was slightly frustrating to me. Some of the poems are simply lists of names: towns that the UP railroad passed through or tribes displaced by the emergence of the railroad. As a historical document, I suppose these names could be interesting, but ultimately they are just points of data that may or may not enhance the experience of reading her poems. But when the poetry hits (or slaps, as she mentions in the back half), they really work well. I come to poetry for craft, and you can tell that, for whatever was or was not cribbed language, a great deal of skill went into creating this.
Each of the poems in this collection are based on Chinese characters written on the wall of a detention cell in Angel Island Immigration Station. The word is expanded to house the narratives of a cast of characters across racial, ethnic, gender, class, and time itself, to tell the story of the world around the railroad. It is ambitious, but the essays in the back elucidating all of these historical items is what tied the book together for me. She doesn’t just lay out what she found but analyzes, interrogates, and questions what she has created.
It so happens that earlier this year, I visited the location where the transcontinental railroad connected in Utah. I was only passing through to see the Spiral Jetty, a place I had often dreamed of visiting, and regrettably paid little attention to the historic significance of this site. Unfortunately I won’t be headed back to Utah any time soon to explore that, but I am grateful that Rekdal has created a work of art around the region she inhabits, even if it is, as she claims, to be a scribe of empire. It’s good work!