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Chanticleer Magazine 6/1 Jamaica Mews Edinburgh EH3 6HN UK ISSN 1478-0704 £3 cheques payable to "Richard Livermore" read reviews of earlier issues Before commenting on this review please read the FAQ page Home page Notes for publishers Want to be a reviewer? Anthologies. Books. Audio. Magazines. Software. Video. Artefacts. Web design by Gerald England This page last updated: 23rd May 2005.		Chanticleer Magazine #7
		The editorial this Language issue advocates diversity, especially in language, as both a source of identity and a means of celebrating differences. The five poems by Gerald England that open the issue demonstrate this point. They are written in marginal language and the author describes them as sound poems which should be read aloud and are not to be taken too seriously. There is certainly some truth in his contention that poetry written in an unfamiliar language can give out resonance, I have attended haiku readings in the original Japanese which can sometimes be more entrancing and musical than in their English translations. The poems by Gerald England reminded me of some poems by Burns and Chaucer in their more extreme dialect. The most famous of all such resonance poems that comes to mind is, of course, Lewis Carroll's deliciously nonsensical JABBERWOCKY. Brenda Mcmahon writes an informative commentary: THE DEATH AND REBIRTH OF CORNISH LANGUAGE POETRY which describes the struggle to rescue it from previous Arthurian obsessions back into the present. She quotes, as an example of this change, Edwin Chirgwin's AN JYNJY GESYS DHE GOLL — THE ABANDONDED ENGINE HOUSE, published in 1934. Sally Evans contributes an essay — GAELIC — A LATIN OF SCOTLAND, which points to the irreparable damage done to the survival of this ancient language during the years between 1850 and 1950. Its subsequent revival in the 1970s and 80s was due to a relatively small number of Scottish poets and in particular to Sorley Maclean who was instrumental in putting Gaelic on to the school syllabus. Sally Evans believes that as a result of these initiatives Gaelic is now certain to survive as a kind of Latin of Scotland. To survive as a living language, however, it needs the active involvement of the young. Also included in this issue are poems by Alex Migliore and Richard Livermore, the editor. These poems were previously published in Scotia Review, Envoi or Meltdown. There are also four poems by Arthur Rimbaud, translated by J N Reilly. The magazine ends with a section devoted to news and views. Commenting on the PC nature of the Poetry World and contrasting this with the general wayward spirit of poetry, which conforms to no agenda, the section concludes: One day people will recognise that. Until then, poets will just have to suffer from the ignorance of their critics!
		reviewer: Ron Wollard.

		Chanticleer Magazine #8
		The magazine begins with a rousing editorial on the ongoing Poetry War between advocates of rhyming and non-rhyming poetry, which Richard Livermore calls the greatest non-issue in the history of poetry. There is a mixture of poetry and essays. Six poets' work is taken from an anthology called SHAMANIC WARRIORS NOW POETS, reviewed in Issue 7. They are an intriguing set, though I am not sure that I know what a "pavonine afternoon" is (it sounds good, though); nor how a bird "encysts its scribbled maggots", which I fear does not go too trippingly on the tongue... Richard Livermore comes back to the big poetry debate in the form of a tie-in between the Phaedrus debate in Thomas Mann's DEATH IN VENICE and mainstream British poetry today, which he considers has "set its face against imagination and passion" and is, like Aschenbach, in the grip of "a poetic of ethos" which has led to sterility. A lot of thought-provoking comment here as well. A full-page extract of DEATH IN VENICE accompanies the comment, but there is no indication of the translator, the edition or the publisher, which is not only disappointing for the reader but unfair to the translator (dead or alive). Towards the end of the magazine is a poem by Bogdan Tiganov, NO READERSHIP, published because it raises the question of why poetry has come down to 'no readership'.... Would poets, asks Livermore, suddenly find a readership if they all started swearing and going 'political'. Readers are invited to respond to this. The poems I enjoyed most were by LUCAPACIJÜRGENHEBREZGIABIHER. I nearly didn't read them. The idea of the long name is good — it is a joint effort by an Italian and a German poet — but the name itself is a bit off-putting, hard to read and impossible to memorise. Luca Biher would not be bad, or Jürgen Hebrezgia, but that is just a personal opinion. Here is an extract from THE FINE LINE which is to give its name to a collection announced in the same issue: beggar down there cul-de-sac your thoughts life waves its empty hat a barren mind a tunnel night a moistened finger holing the sky thunders and lights try pity try why try down there insert another coin The review section provides news of Fras Publications, a collection of three short stories by John Herdman entitled TRYPTYCH, and a new magazine, FRAS, edited by John Herdman and Walter Perrie, who also has a poetry collection out, CARAVANSERAI with Chanticleer Press. All in all, a good variety of poetry and interesting comment, something there for everyone.
		reviewer: Jacqueline Karp.

		Chanticleer Magazine #9
		The magazine gets its name from Chanticleer, — a rooster of dignified behavior, learning and superior crowing — who came to light in Chaucer's CANTERBURY TALES. This A5, 40 page magazine, further sub-titled The Cock Edition represents good value for money. Livermore wasted no time in his editorial to remind us that this is the Chinese Year of the Rooster. Elsewhere in the edition there are a couple of amusing cock poems designed to titillate with appropriate double meanings and loads of pigeons as a side dish. Don't worry, the latter are all contained in extracts from the novel SHIBBOLETH by Al Roy. Issue Nine also contains a meaty mix of very good poetry as well as various quotes, alongside some seriously dry literary essays and articles. Things neatly round off with various reviews and a letter. Did this get up my nose, as its first sub-title getting up people's noses suggested it would? No, not really, although I did find the novel extracts tedious — a long list of pigeon varieties given their correct names was only part of the problem, the rest of the extracts also left me wondering why they too had been included. The essays and articles — one about WHY JEAN-PAUL SARTRE GOT IT WRONG by Richard Livermore, on the centenary of Sartre's birth — were overlong and tended to bang on about topics I was made to feel I should have known far more about. Thankfully the issue is liberally sprinkled with great poems. Toward the front are two excellent homoerotic pieces by Rod Dungate. THESEUS ADDRESSES THE MINOTAUR is a masterpiece. Theseus was the young hero who entered the labyrinth in Crete in order to slay the minotaur, which he managed to achieve after a massive struggle, using just his bare fists. This poem gets right in close to the topic of when Theseus first sees the sleeping minotaur. It is technically excellent and beautifully worded. By its very nature the writing is seriously erotic — Theseus by the way was fiercely heterosexual — but in no way does it cross the line of good taste: Although I'm called a god by women at home and told I'm handsome by my comrades-in-arms especially when my nectar skin flashes in sunlight during competition games I see I'm nothing but a seedling reed against your holy strength and threatening nocturnal beauty: I am your heart, your blood coursing through your veins. The second poem by Dungate, called A SNATCHED IMAGE, is similarly excellent and refers to the subject being watched through a window, fresh from his morning shower: I know you saw me standing here under these friendless limes across your road, poorly sheltering from November drizzle — you switched on your light. Yes, here you are at your window again watching me as I study you buttoning your pale blue shirt. Again, the images are erotic and as this is male writing about male, rather than a male perving over a woman in a similar situation, the writing is lighter and far more enigmatic. It also manages to appear innocent, despite the obvious physical attraction of the voyeur who has carefully arrived in place at the correct moment . The ending is perfection, as the voyeur knows exactly when to leave: See...your lips move languidly to form an almost imperceptible smile. Time for me to go; I turn and walk into the morning. Still on the topic of homoerotic poems, REAL MEN by Shiv Mirabito is an altogether harder hitting gem. It's a list poem and nearly every line starts with the title words followed by well informed statements, however, as this is an American poem and George W Bush has been neatly woven into the text both at the start and dénouement, the piece suddenly gains national and military significance as well as raising a much needed rye smile, as in this quote: real men like dogs, not cats real men like pussy more than anything real men wear aftershave, antiperspirant & deodorant because the chicks dig it real men do not do foreplay or wear condoms real men accomplish their goals & roll over & go to sleep Base observations aside, the poem concludes that real men are merely pawns of their President and ultimately disposable. Buy this magazine for the poetry. It's unlikely to get up your nose, and I feel sure you won't regret it.
		reviewer: Steve Anderson.