". . . and the fear makes us special"
by John Wing Jr.
Mosaic Press, 2000
Reviewed by T. Anders Carson
When you think of poetry and then think of comedy,
what comes to mind? For many there aren't any similarities. I found one
striking feature that made me shudder when I read this collection and it
is this: comedians have the same level of self-worth as do many poets,
if not lower. [John Wing Jr. is a professional stand-up comedian: ed.]
This is an intriguing assemblage of work dealing not only
with the night-to-night grind of making crowds roar vivaciously but also
the silent moments when the crowd have gone home and the light is
dimmed. I couldn't stop reading the work. The style is fluid. I jumped
from one poem to the next, fully reading every word, letting it flow in the
afternoon sun.
The strongest prose piece is "Deadheads," which
has Mr. Wing Jr. at a club in Buffalo back in 1983. It is about a gig he
did there opening up for Dead lyricist Robert Hunter. The way he handled
the crowd was stunning. Knowing to play "Good Lovin'" (one of
the few times he has had a guitar in his act) to calm the natives was
brilliant. I think there was more than luck involved in choosing the
song.
The poetry is sometimes grim, as in the poem
"underachiever":
Never been
chained to the back of a pickup
and dragged into headlessness.
Wasn't born
in a hotel room
and murdered
moments later
by my panicky parents.
The last line reads, "Never
done anything newsworthy." To reach between the fragments of
headlines and finish with such insight is a gift.
The poetry is a commentary on what he sees around him. Not
only in his coming to terms with his children, aging and divorce but
also a new-found sobriety and love.
Lines from "symptoms":
Still bathmaster to one daughter.
Shooed out by the other
who has discovered privacy.
Insightful. When so many are working long hours to
keep up the payments on various necessities, these playful lines recall
the hope and unashamed innocence in youth. When is it taken away? Is it
when the first prayers are uttered? The first fear of an Almighty? The
first death of an animal or aunt. I don't know, but the poetry guides us
with a shaky but honest revelation.
He ventures through the labyrinths
of trust and betrayal. At one time taking a gig after someone had
faltered. In such a crazed line of work as comedy, the center light is
the only one shining. It must be a challenge to balance that lifestyle
at night with the semblance of normalcy with children. I applaud that. I
applaud that more loudly than an hysterical joke that leaves people in
tears.
John Wing Jr. takes us down the path of foiling the crowd. He
taunts and teases and plays with every line delivered. With every story
told and situation felt I cannot but condone the poetry as an invitation
into the palatial charm that is human nature. He writes with authority
and conviction. His work is controlled and outrageous. The beauty and
the stringent reaching for notes out of range and rolling words into
ideals. For as Mr. Wing Jr. puts it in "Chief":
Death questions the
living.
T. Anders Carson has published poetry
in The
Danforth Review. |
