Wheres Katie?

by Elaine Feeney Reviewed by Alan Garvey Im not going to take the easy way out and liken Elaine Feeney to Rita Ann Higgins, theyre both from Galway with an affinity for those who dont often make the front pages, and thats almost it as far as likenesses go. Im not going to trumpet one over the other, for that does an injustice to both. Im not going to say that Feeneys work has a cosmopolitanism thats lacking in Higginss early work, just because Feeney went to Slovenia as a result of winning the National Slam Championships that sort of opportunity wasnt there for poets in the 80s. But what I will say is that theres no room for self-congratulation in either poets work, regardless of their concerns what really binds the two is that they are primarily interested in others. Wheres Katie? is a substantive first collection, which gives a poet an excellent opportunity to out all of their early work and leave a clean slate for their second and subsequent collections. It also gives a reader a lot of poetry to read and, being a simple creature, I like to see groupings of themes or subjects within a collection (not necessarily individual sections). Wheres Katie? doesnt have such clear parameters or narratives within a clearly defined over-arching meta-narrative that is clear yet to this reader there may be one apparent to the poet. I have to admit to being not quite convinced by some of her shorter poems, a poem like Marietta makes me feel like a bear of very little brain I dont have a clue what its about, aside from the words in front of me all I can think of are biscuits. Not to dismiss the lyric pieces, a number of which are extremely powerful like Juxtaposition, quite startling in its brevity and cleverness, or Reflections in January which is a welcome slap in the face to our complacent lifestyles and inability to assuage or assist in the burdens that others face (similar to poems by Gerry Murphy and Billy Ramsell), specifically, the poets correspondence with a woman living in the aftermath of the Rwandan Genocide. Its in her long poems where I think Feeney does greatest justice to her talent, where she gives herself the space necessary to encompass such a wide scope of relationships and complexities that she witnesses. And there are very few poets of whom I would say this. War March is a fine example, where the poet is confronted by those to whom she chat[s], but theyre still suspicious. / Id never been to Dachau / or Palestine. This is despite the efforts made Earlier on our history timeline where she shows the first-years she teaches panic-fuelled / diamonds swallowed whole in unleavened bread. This internal conflict is preceded in the first stanza by lines such as, Im not into hurtling rocks / I march in line with the others, a painful consciousness for the poet as she undoubtedly knows that most people who are not into hurtling rocks but begin marching in line end up throwing rocks. Binary choices dont seem to sit well with Feeney, greyscales are predominant in her palette as lines blur in space and time, Children skip brightly through coloured anoraks, / trip to the pavement. / Watch the landmines. / Oh no wrong country. Skip away. This willingness to project herself and those closest to her into harms way may well be one of Feeneys strongest attributes, that of empathy. Its here, where Feeney is more concerned with the ethical rather than the overtly political agit-prop of Laying Hens, that she displays a far more interesting facet of poetry.

http://www.salmonpoetry.com/details.php?ID=204&a=187 Shes not into snappy or glib one-liners either, the whole of each poem serves its purpose there are no money shots to be found in the collection. There is a confidence and certainty to her writing that I find refreshing, lines are strong and sure rather than stammered, whispered and uncertain.