Chris Considine\u2019s ‘The Island’<\/p>\n
This pamphlet evokes Looe Island, a small island off the coast of Cornwall. This is a remote place, both of the world and yet apart from it, where when one arrives or departs depends on the elements more than one\u2019s own decisions. Her writing conjures its many moods \u2013 its quiet, its storms \u2013 and offers a clear-eyed glimpse of the practical and the other-worldly aspects of spending time there. Her poem Rough<\/em> contains what I take to be the essence of the place.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Rough<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n \u00a0<\/em><\/strong>Woke at five to a muted booming \u2013 wind A phone call \u2013 there\u2019s no going to the mainland There\u2019s fish in the freezer (boatman\u2019s gift), tomatoes I unpack my packed bag, put on the kettle, How long, how long? The islanders were marooned <\/p>\n Here are many of Chris Considine\u2019s characteristic traits. A voice which is relaxed and authentic, expressed economically in poised and paced language, moving amongst and illustrating underlying ideas and emotions with an undemanding ease.<\/p>\n I enjoy they way it unfolds, starting with that almost claustrophic and timeless first description, then the phone call which brings in the wider world and might redeem the situation slightly were it not for the fact it confirms the speaker\u2019s isolation. The reference to the gulls facing in to the anticipated wind seems to gently point to how other creatures are better adapted than us to the elemental world.<\/p>\n But that sense of vulnerability dissipates with the taking stock of the third stanza and the realisation it will be ok. All you have to do is wait it out. But wait it out in a shifted space where the \u2018familiar beamed rooms\/ have a look of strangeness as if containing,\/as well as me, my anticipated absence.\u2019 This brief eloquent sentence seems to contain something crucial about the nature of places like this, timelessness intruded upon by time-bound humanity. And unease returns with the prospect of being marooned with a broken clock and that existential final question. Which somehow sends me back to the beginning of the poem with its other-worldly evocation.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Chris Considine\u2019s ‘The Island’ This pamphlet evokes Looe Island, a small island off the coast of Cornwall. This is a remote place, both of the world and yet apart from it, where when one arrives or departs depends on the elements more than one\u2019s own decisions. Her writing conjures its many moods \u2013 its quiet, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[2,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1307","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-all-posts","category-blog"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p5v6l4-l5","jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1307","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1307"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1307\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1307"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1307"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.wayleavepress.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1307"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\ndrumming on the thick-walled house and water
\nsmashing itself on the shore. Hard to make out
\nmuch through the salted glass.<\/p>\n
\ntoday. The harbour bar impassable \u2013 wind in the east
\n(which the gulls on their rocks expected yesterday
\nfacing Rame Head instead of Talland).<\/p>\n
\nreddening in the greenhouse, plenty of windfalls
\nfor the pigs. Shame the ducks have stopped laying
\nand hens hide their nests in the wood.<\/p>\n
\nhope the gas will last. The beamed rooms
\nhave a look of strangeness as if containing,
\nas well as me, my anticipated absence.<\/p>\n
\nthree weeks last winter. The clock in the hall has stopped
\nand I don\u2019t know how to get it going.
\nI wonder \u2013\u00ad can time move on without it?<\/p>\n