An independent small press poetry review

NHI independent review
Cherry Pie Press
28 Glen Ridge Drive
Glen Carbon
IL 62034-2905
ISBN 0 9748468 2 1

email Cherry Pie Press
visit the website of Cherry Pie Press

NHI review home page
FAQ page
Notes for Publishers

book reviews
other media

Web design by Gerald England
This page last updated: 10th December 2007.

In part I of ROTOGRAVURE, Nanora Sweet explains the meaning of the word "rotogravure. She says,

Rotogravure process is an intaglio method of printing, meaning that the pictures, designs and words are engraved into the printing plate or printing cylinder.
Her book is divided into four parts: I is dedicated to the author's parents; II features two German republicans; III is about the poet's father, and IV contains a mosaic of images.

With ROTOGRAVURE Nanora Sweet offers a sequence of poems that explore the home ground of memory: a view of growing up in

the urban Midwest, about St. Louis in particular and its people and places.
It is at once a long time ago and as freshly remembered as if it happened yesterday. Sweet has a sure knack for rendering the felt texture of people, places and events. In lines as gritty as charcoal, she delineates the real, the grain of the everyday, as if repeating a catechism.

The book invokes interior weather, and takes the temperature of the times. Sweet shakes the family tree and finds it full of incident. Here is a picture of an ordinary family in an ordinary suburb - but how extraordinary people are if rendered accurately, as in the poem THE JAZZ FLUTE PLAYS:

	that summer that your head had been shaved
	because of scarlet fever and diphtheria, someone
	actually photographed you that way - waiting until
	you could begin to look less frightening.  Or later
	you are happy, locking arms with a handsome brother
	and flashing your brilliant smile.
Stock characters from domesticity burst into vivid life. Here's the mundane of childhood illness in all its actual preciousness, as if salvaged from the attic. The language, of course, has everything to do with evoking these scenes.

In the late nineteen forties there was The Park (SCATTERED LAGOONS), but over the years things have changed:

	... To the north
	the balustrades are crumbling.  The River
	of the Fathers surfaces in railyards and then
	borders the city with the white stones of its walls.
	This knowledge begins with a dream.  Even time
	Is controverted when art is the only power.
The past is recaptured as a kind of oral history; stories are edited and stitched together but otherwise hardly tampered with. The poet is ever faithful to her idiom, the sounds of spoken English neatly captured as in the title poem, ROTOGRAVURE:
	On a Sunday, still sleepy, I read old news and turn pages
	heavy with everyone's dreams.  A cat's eyes are naturally
	yellow they say, although a blue-eyed cat walks my chair backs
	and sleeps on the rotogravure.
Attentive to a multitude of cherished particulars, Sweet creates a memorial to time, place and dreams and, as she says,
we've become lost in the pictures and do not want to leave.
In part II, Sweet creates atmospheres around historical personages: John Frederick's daughters, and a statue of Schiller. Chattiness is the preferred mode of communication, and the method she uses to unlocking secrets. The book delivers the sense of conformism and intimacy we associate with the era's psychodramas. Sweet constructs mosaics with her long, enjambed lines. The rhythm and syntax are effective in rendering a sense of being there; it seems as though we are part of this heritage.


	The manly German poet
	stands above us with pen
	and book of stone
and ends by taking a pledge:
	... On this Plaza
	a pledge is but a poem in a stone fašade and
	slightly foreign tongue. "Even on the day 
	he died," the newspaper said of Gottlieb, "he
	portrayed his death in the language of the poet.
In part III, the poet writes about her father who is conjured up in images of the desk at which he worked (FATHER'S DESK):
	... For all your reckonings,
	the will you left could only measure out
	the hatred, pity, greed, and love of those
	you left behind.
Sweet, sour, cosmic, the poem's wisdom lies in its fidelity: to the girl being shaped and stamped by early experiences -
	... There's room enough in here to store
	this light vocabulary of the nondescript,
	these pennyworths of smile and sigh,
	these small dispersals that come back again.
and to the father's teaching, as in the poem A CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON where
	We teach before we're taught.  Acquaintances,
	We thrive on rules and rights.  Who'll teach
	Us to be friends, and to befriend?  You learned
	The hard (hard-hearted) way we would not learn.
Sweet bears witness, and we relish the confirmation of her testimony.

Part IV is remarkably intense, here are poems of images that blaze as you read. In COUNCIL GROVE, the poet is out for a drive to look at other people's houses -

	They say that, close by Council Grove, Clark took
	more land and planted an estate called Minonma.  His son
	gave it a manor house trimmed in gingerbread.  It lasted
	into the nineteen fifties, which gave it an address
	and tore it down.  I've driven out today, that address
	on my mind.
In a matter-of-fact tone, Sweet tells us that for her,
	history is all a foreshortening
ROTOGRAVURE is a saga of memories and held moments. Sweet sometimes barges too forcefully into the past, leaving us slightly bemused and bewildered. In THE LESSER BALKANS, for example, she imagines that
	Priests and cardinals chose well in building a
	Byzantine cathedral for this town.  A simpler
	mosaic takes shape here, asphalt, chat, cement
	lovers, old maids, grandmothers, sisters, heirs.
The encounter somehow a golden dream of harmony, as if the glimpsed town is imparting some ancient wisdom.

ROTOGRAVURE takes us back to the landscape of the Midwest, back to the days of childhood, and urban life. Here, the poems are freighted with an extraordinary melancholy, with the poet's knowledge that things don't last. As the voice glides, pauses, then twists and turns, the poet nails down her defining images: parents, cousins, the town, historical figures. Her poems are made out of a few simple elements, a few things that resonate, that matter to her, where a believer in the power of the imagination can redeem them.

reviewer: Patricia Prime.