Monday, 31 March 2014
Here With The Shadows by Steve Rasnic Tem, Swan River Press
Following his thirty-year retrospective,(Chomu Press's 'Onion Songs'),
reviewed last month in these pages, comes Rasnic Tem's latest.
A subtle shift in mood and colour immediately becomes apparent.
Where certain tales in the former voluminous selection revealed
a broad pallet of symbolism and metaphor, the best remained the
maturer, quieter tales of love lost and tragedies unresolved.
Nowhere is this more apparent than in one of Rasnic Tem's, so far,
greatest examples; 'Wheatfield With Crows.' (Ironic, considering
it's named after a Van Gogh; an artist known for the broadest of
strokes). Debuting in last year's Dark World (Tartarus Press) its
place at the end of that collection - as here - is appropriate.
An amateur artist and his mother return to the scene of what they
believe a very personal crime - the unsolved childhood murder of his
absconded sister - her daughter - fifteen years earlier.
The jaded, half-articulated pain felt by both is beautifully rendered
and as hidden as the overgrown stalks of wheat that may harbour
their darling forever.
'The Cabinet Child' sees a husband try salving his hidden guilt
over his wife's years of disappointment, to whom he'd refused a child,
by purchasing a surrogate gift whose true nature remains as closed.
Coming over as a conspiracy between both the James's, the ambi-
guity of Henry leads to the startling denouement of M.R.
Three tales here are new; 'A House by the Ocean,' 'The Still, Cold
Air' and 'G is for Ghost.' The first sees a sister, wilfully estranged,
then reunited, but at what cost? The second involves a ghostly
parental legacy that seemingly returns the contempt their son had
held them in, in life. The third concerns a young murder victim who
won't stay dead. Interesting then that each of these tales are so
connected; by the unrequited echoes harboured in a dilapidated
house and its varying forms of familial revenge. The evocation of
empty hope, amidst the cold and the damp, is chillingly, cloyingly
wrought.
It might be argued that no new ground is broken here. Yet when
that ground can break the heart by such half-glimpsed evocations of
familial loss, the writer's job is surely achieved.
Swan River's first, appropriately monochrome, cover is just as
effective as its more colour-dominant predecessors. A young tree's
awakening as a woman in a snowstormed forest reflects the isolating
chill beneath the covers. Another effective collaboration from Meggan
Kehrli and Jason Zerrillo.
Labels: keywords
Chomu Press,
Dark World,
Steve Rasnic Tem,
Tartarus Press
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment