~JOHN FINDURA~
SARAH MANGUSO: SISTE VIATOR
These poems
are permanent, not unlike the tattoos
that pop up every so often.
There
is only confidence
in what she is saying — no
hesitation or
second-guessing,
and that takes more than
tapping on a keyboard.
Second books from poets often fall into
the “project” category. The material for the first book has usually
been compiled over years and is selected from hundreds of pieces. These
poems have been revised, rewritten, thrown out, brought back, emailed
to friends, twisted and pressed until they are deemed worthy. This
process leaves a lot of unused poems behind. But who wants to include a
poem in their second book that they didn’t feel was good enough to be
in their first? That is where the idea for the “project” comes in:
write poems that surround a central idea. This allows for some wiggle
room. If a poem doesn’t stand by itself, but it fits in with the
project, it can be excused. A bad song on a concept album rarely
distracts from the whole if it moves the story along. However, Sarah
Manguso’s
second book, Siste Viator,
is not the average “project” book.
As pointed out in the book’s opening, “Siste Viator”
translates from the Latin as “Stop, Traveler” or “Traveler, Halt” and
was a common inscription on Roman roadside tombs. Praising a title is
not something I often do, but in this case Manguso has hit the nail on
the head. The poems found within force casual readers to stop and
stare — to understand the situation and almost dare them to damnation
for passing by. The poems, with one exception, are being transmitted
from the grave to the passersby in near the same manner as an
intricately carved headstone. This is the basis of the project, but the
book has moved beyond the need to categorize it. There is a deep
feeling of continuity that runs through it but the idea never overtakes
the poems themselves.
Manguso has driven a stake into the ground and
marked off her territory. It is somewhat frightening to realize that
your words may outlast you and very easy to stack them so that they
fall in the direction they are pushed. What separates Siste Viator from her first book, The Captain Lands in Paradise, is
that these poems will not tip in the direction they are pushed — they
will fall in the direction that Manguso has set for them. These poems
are permanent, not unlike the tattoos that pop up every so often. There
is only confidence in what she is saying — no hesitation or
second-guessing, and that takes more than tapping on a keyboard.
Manguso offers up sharp and solid statements
throughout the entire work. “Don’t let me get what I want. // I love
you as dead people love — in every way imaginable.” The odd transitions
offer up multiple readings that keep each poem fresh through repeated
readings and give up new twists every time through. “A good horse runs
even at the shadow of the whip. / But we are not good horses.” No, we
stay and let the leather slap our skin over and over. As Manguso says,
“I am not asking to suffer less. / I hope to be nearly crucified.” Yet
somehow there is wit and humor in its midst: “I’m tired of looking at
this
blonde’s well formed ass / But she sure can weed a garden.”
“And yet I cannot leave my room. Everything is in it
already. / What is it like? It isn’t like anything. It already is
everything.” That’s the best description that I could give to Siste Viator. It very well might be
everything, and no, we cannot leave. It is confession and extreme
unction all in one, where it is no longer clear who is the confessor,
who is the sick. After reading, it no longer matters.
Siste Viator, Sarah
Manguso. Four Way Books, 2006. ISBN: 1884800696 $14.95
© by John Findura
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