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Here, Bullet
Brian Turner
Bloodaxe Books, 2007
ISBN: 978 1 85224 799 7
By
This is a collection of poems written by an American soldier while on
a year's duty in Iraq as an infantry team leader, from November 2003.
Some poems have sub-titles in Arabic and there are explanatory notes and
original sources provided at the end of the book, mainly for the Arabic
references.
Arabic words punctuate individual poems: maut, death; shukran, thank
you; Inshallah, Allah be willing; sadiq, friend; ashban, ghosts; mihrab,
gateway to paradise; milh, salt; and jameel: beautiful. I found myself
'acquiring' them, holding them close as I read on. The opening poem, entitled
'A Soldier's Arabic', starts: 'The word for love, habib, is written from
right / to left, starting where we would end it / and ending where we
might begin'.
Despite the accumulation of detail, sensory and imaginative, as well
as military, Turner's language has an economy and eloquence. There are
short poems, which explode in your brain, shock your system out of complacency
and there are long, filmic narratives, which guide you through the gruelling
detail and routine of 21st century military action on the ground.
Entwined with the metal and fire power, the danger and brutality, is
the complexity of the human relationships between soldiers in life-threatening
situations, between soldiers and civilians, and between soldiers and themselves,
notably Brian Turner himself, as well as a sense of the larger human and
political canvas.
If you have followed events over the years, the war will have made Iraq
'familiar' through media representation. In contrast to mediated news
values and political manipulations which routinely serve to filter and
control information and understanding, here the minutiae of lives and
bodies, the vulnerability of soldiers, 'insurgents', 'terrorists', the
general population; the experience of invasion, war, terror, fear, loss,
bereavement, yearning, madness and mourning are 'refreshed' and given
emotional power and resonance sufficient to justify and renew the purpose
of poetry: to deter 'deadness' of heart and mind, in a media-saturated,
consumerist environment; to shock not as a means to market share, but
to keep us functioning as sentient beings, feeling and caring.
These are poems bound not just to poetry, but to the turmoil of lives
and politics. They burn, hurt and leave us altered, countering the voyeurism
explicit in western culture. Turner shows not just that it can be done
in the 21st century, but that it must be done, by poets.
Towards the end of the book is the poem Sadiq:
It is a condition of wisdom in the archer to be patient
because when the arrow leaves the bow, it returns no more.
SA'DI
It should make you shake and sweat,
nightmare you, strand you in a desert
of irrevocable desolation, the consequences
seared into the vein, no matter what adrenaline
feeds the muscle its courage, no matter
what god shines down on you, no matter
what crackling pain and anger
you carry in your fists, my friend,
it should break your heart to kill.
These are not poems for skimming between coffees. This beautiful writing
provides a slow, demanding read (and re-read): unsentimental, without
sensationalism or self-indulgence. The emotional density and power of
the writing never descends into self-regard or obscurantism. Compelling
and ultimately life-affirming, this collection reminds us what humans
are capable of at the limits of experience: horror, hope, memory, affection
and poetry, for example. Brian Turner's complex identity, as American
soldier and poet, and as a 'survivor' of sorts, yields hybrid writing:
testimony / critique / art. There is a tenderness that runs through these
poems, which is our lifeline as readers.
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