The Strange and Unaccountable Account of the Adventures of a 21st Century Lady - Stone Telling: Silence to Speech (Issue 1)

I don't think I've mentioned this yet, but Stone Telling: The Magazine of Boundary-crossing Poetry is really very good. Rose Lemberg is its editor, and she is really very good too, and not just as a poet herself. Stone Telling's first issue -- appropriately themed, Silence to Speech -- begins as I hope it means to continue: with a distinctive voice.

Because Stone Telling is an online 'zine, a few words on its layout: easy to navigate for a reader, spare of design and lovely; I would ask for nothing more. Lemberg has given us a 'zine in three parts (and I always find things divided into thirds very pleasing): Introduction, Poetry, Nonfiction.

Let me say a few things about the Nonfiction first. 1) As an editor of another 'zine, I am envious. I believe relevant-to-fantastical-poetry articles are fascinating (and, sure, this is partly because one can stretch relevant-to-fantastical-poetry to mean almost anything, but the trick there is not to stretch too far), and these are just the kind I like to read. Deborah Brannon's "Beyond the Kind Horizon: Reading for Diversity in the 2010 Rhysling Anthology" is a review I'd divide into two parts. The first half is a solid review of an anthology which is difficult to review, especially when one considers that it is essentially a showcase of nominations by a far-flung lot of people rather than an anthology with a guiding voice. The second half is a thoughtful, interesting examination of cultural diversity inside the 2010 Rhysling Anthology, where it shows up and how. By far and away my favourite nonfiction piece was "A (Mail)coat of Many Colors: The Songs of the Byzantine Border Guards." I can't even pretend detachment. It was just cool. Athena Andreadis places the area's folk-songs into regional context, history context, into context (again!) against similar Western traditions, and she ties the whole thing into the transformative (and preservative) nature of borderlands. My imagination -- and my interest -- are both certainly captive, and just as I reached the end of the article and was thinking, Man, I'd really like to hear some of this sung aloud, what should the article provide but some audio of Nikos Ksilouris singing a Cretan rendition of the Death of Diyenis. And, man, let me say again: Cool.

I don't want to short-change the other nonfiction pieces: they're all worth reading, but I'm not going to dwell on them at length. The article on Gabriela Mistral is just as interesting as the "Byzantine Border Guards" article and makes me desirous of seeking out Mistral's work, speculative or not. Also, I appreciate having an article that focuses on historical perspective next to an article that focuses on modern perspective, in terms of speculative poetry, side by side. The contributors to the Roundtable interview are all eloquent, and it's a fitting note to end Stone Telling with.

And now, the poetry! Mouahaha!

There was no bad poem in the first issue of Stone Telling, no poem that made me cock an eyebrow and go Oh, well, I guess, and I am happy to report that Stone Telling includes recordings of its poets reading when it can!

No, really: I'm happy. I'm happy enough to comment on some of the readings along with the poems, beginning with Mary Alexandra Agner's. "Owl Woman" is a poem I like, and a poem I like even more when I hear it read by its poet. Agner's reading style is very deliberate, somewhat chaunting, slow and easy to understand, and when she reaches the final line her voice sort've changes into a question-mark hook, and suddenly there's a challenge that makes the rest of the poem linger in the mind. Tara Barnett's reading of "Star Reservation" is brisk and conversational. "Star Reservation" itself is a strong piece, especially in Stone Telling's context, and I liked the way it sits in the bones -- these two lines especially: So easily it was given when it had no value. / So easily it was taken when it had no worth.

J. C. Runolfson is one of my favourite poetry readers of all time, and she does not at all disappoint here. When she reads, she's got this sort of rollicking hypnotic rhythmic intensity, this sort've grainy ghostiness where there are echoes (no, really, there are echoes), and it's absolutely fabulous and utterly suits "Robert Cornelius Speaks a Dead Tongue." And on top of that, the poem takes a look at the history of photography, which I've discovered fascinates me far more than I ever believed it could when I was gazing with rapt eyes at Pre-Raphaelite picture books.

Peer Dudda's "Train Go Sorry" startled me, as the video (yes! A video!) of the poet reciting his work begins as soon as you click on it, and I had to scramble for the pause button while I situated my speakers properly. I also quirked an eyebrow, all, Oh ho? Why is this guy showing himself? Is he going to act it out, too? And then: his hands began to dance. My reaction was something like: Ooohhh, a video. Hey! Dancing hands!!! His hands are dancing poems! Awesome!! It's not my favourite poem by any means, but I appreciate the thought and the crafting that went into it.

I am always amazed by Samantha Henderson's ability to take poetry and prose, twine them together, and spin a thread of story out into a mythology that feels like something that's always been known by someone, like something you could tease out of the shadows if you only had the eyes to see or the ears to hear. Thankfully, Sam does! She is also a fabulous reader. Her voice is wicked, full, knowing; she knows when to slow down, when to speak up, how to twist her tongue into a command. My only quibble with "The Gabriel Hound" is I wouldn't call it a poem -- a short prose-piece with poetry as an essential part of it, sure. A poem? No. But hey, Stone Telling is boundary-crossing, and the boundary between prose and poetry gets smeared sometimes, no?

This is kind of a rave review. I didn't mean it to be, but Stone Telling's first issue is just really very good.

And no, I'm not done yet. And no, I'm not even pretending to have an order to the telling of good things, and thta this review is anything other than stream of consciousness.

I really loved "The Elders at the Falls" by Ursula le Guin, and if you are in the habit of reading poetry anthologies in any old order, I urge you to read that one first, no matter what. It's the poem Rose chose to open her issue, and it is just about perfect in that role. Emily Jiang's "Self-Portrait" is another poem I truly enjoyed, and her reading made me laugh and wish I had Emily Jiang for a friend. I won't bother saying that I'm biased when it comes to Amal El-Mohtar's poetry; I am absolutely not. It just happens to be amazing, and her voice just happens to be strong, to read poetry the way I think poetry should be read, because she's good. Shweta Narayan is another of my favourite poetry readers; she does not disappoint, and her voice (both in terms of audio and 'print') is a strong one to end the poetry portion of Stone Telling on, and I greatly appreciated the segue from the last lines of "Nagapadam" to the review of the 2010 Rhysling Anthology.*

And I think that's one of Stone Telling's great strengths. I mentioned before that Stone Telling has a distinctive voice -- and it does. But I'd say Stone Telling is also distinctive in that it is sure of where it is going, each poem, each article, creates a coherent whole. And it is wholly lovely. I haven't mentioned every poem by name (although it may seem like I have!), but that is because I am stopping myself.

I'm exhausted from liking this 'zine. It's a good exhaustion. I feel satisfied.



*I also, uh, greatly appreciated the recording from an "Ah! So that's how you are meant to pronounce that word!" standpoint.