When the
Heart Parts: A Sound Opera
by Penn
Kemp
Penn Kemp
/ Pendas Productions, 1999
Reviewed
by T. Anders Carson
When The
Heart Parts is a spoken word CD. It starts with almost multi-task
voices flowing over each other to simulate a beating heart. Her
father had a heart attack and subsequently died after a 12 day
stay in hospital. The first part of the CD is a long track dealing
with the grief and acceptance that Kemp went through during the
death of her father.
I will say
that having lost both parents myself, I found it a difficult CD
to listen to. Difficult but vital in order to come to a better
understanding of the different processes people go through in
dealing with death. For some who have never been touched by this
vicious scepter it will seem tedious and repetitive. For those
of us who have held the hands of dying family members, who have
seen the eyes of existence before they leave to the netherworld,
then this is a vital recording.
I will admit
that it brings back memories of those stale rooms. Nurses and
shifts and clocks and flowers and shuffling of feet and hushed
whispers and there is some improvement…
It is captured
in this line when describing what her brother felt of his visit
to see their father:
I’ll take
those gifts back with me. Each little hand hold.
Intense words.
Naked. Words that come when grief and utter wailing despair are
present. Their father held on for 12 days. It was almost as if
he was hanging on so that they could accept the death. That they
could begin to rebuild their lives. So that a sense of closure
would come to the family.
She comments
on how strong he is, was, can be… The size of his hands. That
strength is also measured by how many times he comes back from
having his heart stop. At one point his heart is beating at 260
beats a minute and it takes 6 times for his heart to stop until
it starts again. Each time the team works on him. Each time he
gazes up with his ‘morphine eyes.’ Just think about that for minute.
260 beats. If you took your own pulse now it might run anywhere
between 70 and 100 ( if you are anxious…) Imagine 260 beats.
The recording
captures this frenetic energy by almost a sing-song with a throat-like
movement to such a pitch that only a heartbeat out of control
could come close. Jim Kemp only can use guttural sounds to express
how he is feeling. Having had a great aunt who had suffered stroke
when I was 17, I can say with extreme conviction that the sounds
represented are so close to the actual that it feels as if you
are struggling with him to be understood.
Her mother
is brought into the picture. Her anxiety of thinking that she
should have gotten to the hospital more quickly. As I said earlier,
each person deals with death in their own way. Some grow wild
gardens, others smoke vials of crack, some take bottles of liquor,
others play solitaire into the night and some pray to the almighty
wherever they may be… Her mother is encouraged to bring the children.
She does. Death has a way of bringing people together. Even the
possibility of death. After Mr. Kemp leaves us they are brought
in to see him. She describes with a beautiful, almost envy, that
his body is now resting. The blood has drained from him. The last
part of the body it leaves is the heart.
When her mother
returns home there is dog who greets her. She says she doesn’t
have time for a new animal. It looks like their old dog Squire.
Oddly the dog stayed all day on the front porch. Was it a coincidence?
When The
Heart Parts is an interesting listen. It will give you something
to think of on your next drive to somewhere. It will make you
appreciate that jagged sunset, a brushing of your cat or your
child saying your name. It collects these feelings and churns
in compassion, the vital element in dealing with our sorrow. That
first track should be played in our schools so we could really
learn something about living.
T.
Anders Carson is an Ottawa-area poet. His poetry was featured
in an earlier issue of The
Danforth Review.
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