In the Glasshouse, Helen Tookey
HappenStance Press, 2016 £5.00
Celandine and certainty
I find myself very attracted to these poems. They have a depth, a sense of psychological truths being brought to life, explored and examined. The first poem, ‘Glasshouse’, ends with the paradox at the heart of existence, the glass being ‘complete still but fractured utterly’
There’s a repeated theme of unease often expressed with images of water and people underwater: ‘we are something like the water creatures.’ They slip silently under; whole families lie calmly there in ‘At the Ponds’, somehow alive but also dead. They exude an atmosphere of menace and the possibility of dragging the watcher down.
A parallel idea is beautifully expressed in the poem ‘Rheidol Valley’. This opens with a quotation from Rilke and lives up to it through the sophisticated lyricism and the image of the earth drawing your body down inside it: ‘the earth made grain of you, scattered and sowed you’.
All of which helped me to feel I could almost understand ‘Celandine’ – my favourite poem of the collection. It’s both logical and illogical. As it happens, I have a hedge of my own with celandine growing beside it in the spring so I appreciate the optimism and beauty of the image. Reference to the plant occurs three times in the poem and it becomes something to affirm and to hold on to in a world which contains the threat of the underwater. The pool is a surprise intrusion into the poem but at the same time has great resonance. It holds a man swimming downwards ‘naked and without a name’ and thus more precarious than the flower.
So the drama of the poem makes me imagine a personality drawn to fracture and unease but still hanging on as long as it’s possible to find handholds and sureties (such as the celandine). The plant is described earlier in association with certainty – ‘The certainty that these are celandine’ and the last, very satisfying line of the poem reads:
Only the small yellow flowers are named. The flowers are celandine.