ARRHYTHMIA by
Janice Tokar
Published by above/ground press, 2014.
Much like the
cover image’s interweaving mountain peaks, ARRHYTHMIA finds Janice Tokar communicating the elemental shifts of our landscape while
drawing our eye toward a blurring point. With “Debris from the marshes/
bobs on the waves” and “The forest breathes north/ for a thousand miles”, her
commentary seems more interested in how a region creates
space and buffers time than any ecological or geographical concerns. It soon becomes clear that this almost
sterile view of nature is burdened by its association to a familial
tragedy.
ii.
what’s left
or can’t be left
behind
The arrhythmia
carried
not fatal
but a permanent
flaw
In my dreams
she cuts through
the waves
with Olympian
sureness and strength
I stumble along
the shore
If Tokar’s voyage
comes across as a conflicted homecoming, the “she” being revived and the
arrhythmia passed down make up the sedimentary layers this text aims to plumb. Who is she? What happened to her? As
a reader I’d rather have information withheld than offered up too freely, and
the secrets of this long poem are addressed with genuine apprehension. As
“last year’s calendar/ still mounts the wall” and “This year’s is hung/ loosely
on top”, Tokar papers over a black anniversary. When a patch of seaweed looks
“like tangles of gold-brown hair”, the poem inexplicably trails off. These
clues deepen Tokar’s surroundings with an apparitional presence but too often
return to surface details that mind ARRHYTHMIA's delicate atmosphere. The
parallels relating distance as a physical expanse and as a proximity to
aftermath work fluently; moreover, a mood-piece such as this doesn’t require a central
arc or epiphany to welcome a closer reading. But whether the text rewards that closer reading is another mystery.
iv.
When she left
after
hard choices made
histories deanchored
gold bands
ceremonially
tossed in the Falls
I imagine
she imagined
we’d sail free
But the beginning
rides in
on an ending’s
wake
The above excerpt
is rare in that it gives us plenty of back-story but scenery aside, none of these tidbits converse with Tokar’s surveying in a revelatory way. The same can be said for
ARRHYTHMIA’s eleventh passage, which despite probing tough issues of
abandonment and reconciliation appears completely removed from the pilgrimage
that carries the poem.
Is it different with
love
or, like crime,
does lack of
intent
negate the
offence?
Res ipsa loquitur
the facts may
speak for themselves
but reveal so
little
of what we
recognize
as true
The eloquence of
this passage floors me, as Tokar meets an impasse between documented and
remembered trauma with empathy. But these truths pop up devoid of the
surrounding forest and its “patient resuscitation”, reducing some of
ARRHYTHMIA’s misty descriptions to pleasant but unnecessary fog. Perhaps the
sparseness is intended to stand in for the crux of the mystery, or at least
reflect the distance that makes it so inscrutable. (The strong impression that “she”
is a mother figure understandably skews the case’s objectivity.) Even if the
reader’s appetite for discovery goes a bit underfed, ARRHYTHMIA is an
off-kilter study that attributes loss and perseverance to the realm of nature –
human or otherwise.
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