Friday, February 26, 2010

Book Review : E A Markham, Looking out, Looking in : New and Selected Poems, Anvil Press, 2009

When Edward Archie Markham died in Paris on 23 March 2008, he was in the process of finalising the the contents of this volume of new and selected poems. Markham had been living in Paris since retiring from his post of Professor of Creative Writing at Sheffield Hallam University. According to the publishers preface, Markham had submitted ‘the contents list and most of the new poems’ and was supposed to meet with his editor to make the final adjustments on his next visit to the UK.

Apparently Markham wished to make edits to some of the older poems and to add several poems from collections he felt he had under represented in the selection. In the publishers preface Peter Jay, founder and editorial director of Anvil Press admits that these are details he could not be certain of. In spite of these uncertainties however, this substantial collection is an excellent summation of one of the Caribbean's most unique and prolific voices. It is perhaps, the definitive introduction to Markham’s work.

This 252 page collection spans the years 1984 to 2003. It also includes several poems from Markham’s Human Rites: Selected Poems (1984) which covered the period 1970 to 1982. There is an essay ‘Why Do You Write’ which provides a moving epitaph and offers some psychological insight, and there is also an appendix of notes which are helpful in understanding Markham’s more obscure references. The newer poems he submitted, perhaps Markham’s last poems, are the poems that fittingly open the book.

Markham was born on the volcanic Caribbean island of Montserat on October 1, 1939, the youngest of a family of four. He attended grammar school in the capital Plymouth, before, emigrating to the UK in 1956. He read philosophy and literature at University of Wales, Lampeter, later studying 17th Century Comedy at the Universities of East Anglia and London. He worked in theatre during the late 1960s, founding the Caribbean Theatre Troupe which toured the Eastern Caribbean in 1969-70 performing Markham’s plays The Private Life of the Public Man (1970) and Dropping Out is Violence (1971)

He worked in France for two years, then in Germany, returning to the UK in 1972, when his first pamphlet of poems Crossfire was published by the Surrey based Outposts Publications. During the mid 1970s he began to publish poems under various pseudonyms: Paul St Vincent, was a young, urban Caribbean man, Pewter Stapleton, a middle aged playwright and academic, similar in all but name to Markham and Sally Goodman, a Welsh feminist. According to Markham, “She (Goodman) is Welsh, is young, is white, is blue-eyed, is blonde, is very much, in a way, like me."

In the 1980s he became itinerant again, working for the VSO for two years in Papua New Guinea, an experience beautifully recounted in his memoir, Papua New Guinea Sojourn: More Pleasures of Exile (1997). In 1988 he served as Writer in Residence at the University of Ulster in Colaraine, a position that he held until 1991 when he was appointed Professor of Creative Writing at Sheffield Hallam University. He developed the MA in creative writing there and directed the biennial Hallam literature festival. On his retirement in 2005 he was appointed Emeritus Professor and moved to Paris, continuing to consult with students and to travel to the UK for conferences, readings and book launches.

I met Markham in 2007 when we read at Victoria and Albert Museum as part of that years Black History Month celebrations. I had first encountered his work in 1994 when I was preparing my own first collection of poems. I discovered Crossfire among the bargain bin of a Notting Hill bookshop. At first I was drawn, not to the poems - this came after - but to its aesthetics : the red card pamphlet with its stark black cover print, its off white pages. It became the physical template for my own collection. Ironically, it is to the design of this new collection that I offer any criticism; more could’ve been done with the cover design.

Approaching Markham as a Caribbean poet is problematic. As Bruno Gallo noted in his 1996 analysis of Markham's work, Markham "not only wants to write poetry; he aspires to be a poet and to act like one." Markham, like Walcott, as can be gleaned from this collection, is a product of the colonial education he received. An education in which the major literary figures included William Shakespeare, John Milton, William Blake and William Wordsworth, and, it is to these that Markham aligns himself to in his earlier work. To be ‘a poet’ for this pre-independence generation meant emulation and aesthetic absorption of the English canon, to mimic. Markham however, has managed to move beyond mere emulation and to develop his own distinctive voice as a poet, becoming a cosmopolitan, diasporic renaissance man.

Comparatively few Caribbean poets of the 1940s and 50s chose to write extensively in their ‘native tongues’. According to Gallo, Markham's reluctance to write in Caribbean dialect was "both his pride and his penalty." Having to choose between the language of the Caribbean and that of his adopted home, Markham chose the latter, accepting its political and historical connotations. One is reminded of Kamau Brathwaite in this instance, when he says, “It was in language that the slave was perhaps most successfully imprisoned by his master and it was in [the slave's] (mis-)use of [language] that [they] perhaps most effectively, rebelled.

The absence of Caribbean dialect is noticeable in Markam’s work, but only as an afterthought, and only because of a questionable expectation that such language is what ‘Caribbean’ poetry entails. And at times Markham does offer glimpses of this Caribbean-ness, as in the political poem ‘Hidiot (a polemic)’,

‘If you is big man already with stripe pon you arm, why you so


You know them say when you grow hand too long for your own


is chop they going have to chop it off: so you not fraid?’

Still, these are rare moments in his considerable body of work, and it because of this reluctance perhaps, that Markham, though critically acclaimed, remained sadly under appreciated during his lifetime. This and a clear refusal to be pigeonholed by genre or cultural ethnicity. Ironically, ‘Hinterland’ the anthology he edited in 1990 for Bloodaxe remains the quintessential anthology of Caribbean poetry, including seminal works by Linton Kwesi Johnson, Kamau Brathwaite, James Berry, Michael Smith, Grace Nichols et al.

What I find interesting in Markham, however, apart from his reluctance to use nation language, are the clear, unobtrusive lines of his poems. They are often prosaic, especially in the more recent poems included here, and the language is both elegant and eloquent. Perhaps unlike the St Lucian Nobel laureate Derek Walcott, Markham seems less interested in poetic technique and form, less of ‘how’ and more of ‘what’ the poems say. At times, this subtlety, and manipulation of the inner nuances of the English language reminds me of the late Eric Roach, a Tobagonian poet who committed suicide in 1974.

The best of his poems however, are the ones where he reinvents and subverts the language of the poem, letting the muscularity of the text come to the fore, as in the excellent ‘Grandmotherpoem’,

It heaves sense against sense cascading down the boneface

while the wet of mothermother drips into thimble: my bucket,

my ocean.

And the kite is a cloud of badness dribbling, drizzling a parable.

According to post colonial scholar Lauri Ramey, Afro-Caribbean diasporic traditions are characterised by,

‘...emphasis on family and cultural inheritance, accompanied by a sense of its dispossession; effort to create one’s own functional world in the face of migration, joined to a strong belief in integrating the individual with the sustaining community; and cultural, psychological, and linguistic alienation from one’s roots, along with a desire and need for sustained contact with deceased elders as spirit guides.’

Markham then, even in his attempts to erase identity, history and even personality from his work, remains essentially, if not a Caribbean poet, then a poet for whom the Caribbean remains essential; searching, politically restless, exploratory and imbued with an underlying sense of pathos, of experience, the work of an explorer with a world view, of a life lived. This is an ambition that many Caribbean poets, including myself, share, and this new anthology of E.A. Markham’s work is an important addition to the cannon of disaporic Caribbean literature.

Anthony Joseph

February 2010

BIO : Anthony Joseph is a poet, novelist, lecturer and musician. He was born in Trinidad, moving to the UK in 1989. His publications include Desafinado (1994), Teragaton (1997), The African Origins of UFOs (Salt, 2006) and Bird Head Son (Salt, 2009). He is a doctoral candidate at Goldsmiths College.



About the Project

'Beyond the Linear Narrative...' is a 3 year AHRC funded research project being carried out by the Pinter Centre for Performance and Creative Writing at Goldsmiths, University of London.

Taking Pinter’s work as a starting point for, or symbol of, the fracturing of narrative across many art-forms in twentieth and twenty-first century work, this research project asks a series of questions about the links between inter-cultural and political change and the emergence, or re-emergence, of non-linear and fractured narrative.

Focussing on literature and performance, particularly in postcolonial and diasporic contexts, it will ask why non-linear narrative has been such a feature of this period’s artistic production. If these fractured and experimental forms are a response to the breakdown of the west’s grand narratives of progress, what forms of resistance or revision do they provide?

In what ways can they be seen to emerge from the increasing interaction of different cultures in the colonial, post-colonial and post-Cold War world? How do such fractured narratives work in postcolonial and diasporic writing and performance? How can these fractured forms explore our culturally diverse society’s competing and conflicting narratives?

The project addresses the ways changing understandings of the self have contributed to the disruption of linear narrative, and in particular, how fractured narratives enable the move away from the Cartesian mind/body duality to an understanding of the embodied self, making the writing of the body such an important element in contemporary performance, fiction and life-writing.

About the Pinter Centre

The Pinter Centre for Performance and Creative Writing is an interdisciplinary research centre at Goldsmiths University involving principally the Departments of English & Comparative Literature and of Drama, with links with Media and Communications, Music, PACE and the Digital Studios.

In line with Harold Pinter’s keen awareness of the centrality of political issues, the Centre is particularly committed to looking at postcolonial and diasporic literature and performance, and the ways in which contemporary creativity is forging new forms that respond to the cultural diversity of the world in which we live. It also has a strong interest in questions of gender, and writing and performing the body.

The Pinter Centre Website

Pinter Centre Events Calendar