Al-Khemia Poetica: A Women's Arts and Writing Journal: Numina Press

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Zabrisky and Rogghe's GREEN LIONS

Is love an alchemical process?
Is it successful, and is it art?
Is poetic collaboration a good idea?

The answer to the first question is “yes.”

The answer to the second question are a bit more complicated. Love changes us, irrevocably, and most often times, not for the better, or that’s what the modern world would have us believe. The answers to the second question, at least, poetically speaking, are revealed in Green Lions (© 2014 Numina Press), a collaboration of love poems by Zarina Zabrisky and Simon Rogghe.

Green Lions employs the alchemical elements; water, fire, air, earth, and ether (or spirit), and the Major Arcana from the Tarot, to tell the story of two people who fall in love, where the process takes, and how it changes them. The voices of Zabrisky and Rogghe start off, predictably, as diverse as two people can be, with Zabrisky as the dominant voice, and Rogghe gentlemanly following in her wake. But as these two talented poets work their way into intimacy, and as the process of poetic courtship progresses, they enter into each other’s hearts and minds, and,the writing becomes much more unified in tone and language, as in the poem ‘Equestrian Seduction Duet” (This is Not a Poem About Horses)”:

I would like to know

how does it feel

on your fingertips

when you touch them

on the neck.

warm? soft?

scratchy?

do your fingertips tingle

with warmth afterwards?

would mine?

if you touch a brown horse

would your fingertips glow

with soft brown light?

Their skin is soft

Their neck is hard -

Running your fingers

Through a horse’s crest

Covers them with a sticky coat

You can roll in little clusters.

In the texture of reality.

The elbow grease of beauty,

The imprint of a friendship.

if you kiss a horse

between the eyes

do your lips feel salty?

To kiss a horse

Between the eyes

Is very much like

When you kiss a woman:

It may well turn its head

If it isn’t in the mood.

A horse kiss, rather,

is a gentle bite, a scratch.

But when your lips

Have grazed the surface

Of a horse’s face,

They know

A different kind of music:

I’ve kissed a horse

And tasted sweat

When riding in the desert;

One time

There was a pouring rain -

My lips seemed

To be stained with tears;

Another time

It was the dead of winter -

My mouth crackled

With the electricity

Of warm skin and dry air.

I want to know more.

tell me,

are horses

lonely creatures -

like people -

like islands -

like cities -

like lovers -

Sometimes a horse can’t eat

Because of mourning,

Just like we can’t

When we’re stressed out -

Maybe in love -

Do they

know how to be true friends?

Their conduct is impeccable:

Treat them right

And they will do the same.

Coupled with the simple, lyrical poems are Zabrisky’s lovely black and white illustrations, which nicely compliment the poetic discourse.

The answer to the third question is subjective in nature, but based on my personal experience, I’ve not read a collaborative work that came together so well as Green Lions, especially one that is so easy and profound to fall into, and is both unforgettable and entertaining.

Monday, November 18, 2013

Zarina Zabrisky's We, Monsters

We, Monsters (© 2013 Numina Press), the debut novel of emerging writer Zarina Zabrisky is the literary equivalent of a Jackson Pollack painting: a multi-layered, amazing, and seductive mess. Before I begin, let me say that Zabrisky has done something I have yet to do - write a novel. However, as a fellow storyteller and a reader who likes to follow the evolutionary arc of a writer’s work, I appreciate what Zabrisky has achieved.

We, Monsters is the story of Rose, a Russian emigre who lives the American dream: successful husband, beautiful children, and house in the ‘burbs. Rose nurses aspirations to be a writer, which her husband doesn’t understand and the rest of the people in her life patently ignore. She has a rich fantasy life born out of her Russian literary heritage, her need to escape the banalities of her current existence, and the traumas of her childhood. She applies for a position as a dominatrix in a dungeon to research material for her book. Predictably, the further Rose delves into the world of BDSM, the more difficult it becomes for her to keep the parts of her life - as well as her past and present - from clashing together.

Running through each chapter of We, Monsters is a series of footnotes that explain Rose’s psychological pathology. The reader may find this intrusive. Indeed, it takes a measure of concentration not to get distracted from Zabrisky’s prose. In the heart of the story, Rose meets “Motherfucker Mike,” the most creepy (and litmus test) of the dungeon clients. MM is indirectly introduced via Rose’s study of a book called Deviants, an in-depth treatise on BDSM behavior. Rose’s first encounter with MM turns We, Monsters on its head. From this point the story instantly becomes coherent and cohesive even as Rose’s internal and external worlds fall apart.

What I like best about We, Monsters are not just the disjointed narratives that finally meld together, but the characters Zabrisky creates out of thin air. Each person in We, Monsters - Rose’s husband Luke; her children, Nick, Olga and Roxanne; her fellow mistresses Mommy, Zoe, Greta, and Susanna; even the Latina gas station attendant and the quirky clients come to life through the lens of Rose’s fractured consciousness. With a few well-chosen words and a humorous tone, Zabrisky paints a full-blown, thoroughly believable portrait:

The session was held in the Dungeon. The spy turned out to be a fragile, red-faced man in his seventies. He had the radiant blue eyes of an iconic saint and an infectious laugh. He offered us a bribe of Moet champagne and two glasses.

“It’s a bribe,” he chuckled.

I hesitated, but Susanna gulped hers down, so I followed her example and soon felt all bubbly and light-headed. As we tumbled between the ob-gyn table and the golden shower tray, Susanna transformed.

Her angelic face twisted, she scowled; her pupils widened, making her olive-green eyes almost black. Her upper lip twitched and raised and for the first time I noticed her sharp, uneven teeth, like those of a small rodent, a squirrel maybe. Her gentleness was gone; she’d turned into a wicked bloodsucking witch, and once again reminded me of Potemkin, Potemkin the Huntress, a dying mouse hanging between her bloodstained teeth.

“We are mean! Nasty! Baaad!”

Her voice was bubbling, like the champagne we were drinking. I felt adrenaline rushing through my veins and my heart pulsing.

“I will torrrturrre you in a KGB way! You will forrrget your own name!”

I caught a glimpse of my burning face in the mirror next to Susanna’s; all we’d need in order to fly was two brooms. Susanna cursed and spit and grunted. We were shouting, hitting, kicking, fighting, hurting, and it felt breathtakingly sweet. We drank more champagne, and pushed the old man around on the floor. He was laughing like a baby and shoving dollars into our thongs… - (from the chapter “A Spy Fantasy/We, Monsters)

As with IRON, Zabrisky is unapologetic, as well as forthright. With We, Monsters, Zabrisky takes a great risk in alienating the reader with diametrically opposed points of view, but her gamble pays off handsomely with a novel that won’t soon be forgotten, and in some cases, may leave the reader questioning his/her own reality. I wish more writers would take this risk, as it would, in my opinion, bring literature back to where it needs to be, in the realm of Art.

(Note: We, Monsters will be released in December 2013. Check Zabrisky’s website for where/when to purchase, and author dates)