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Review:
rattapallax 10
by
Moses Iten (Cordite, Aug. 24, 2004)
I
have to admit, I picked up issue 10 of rattapallax for
‘The Age of MC SOLAAR’ cover story. Although
my French is still very limited, I have had quite a
few tracks by the Senegal-born, Paris-bred, hip-hop
superstar on high rotation for several years. Undoubtedly,
his flow alone is dope enough for heads of any language.
Hip-hop
poetry is not a revolutionary new concept, but according
to hip-hop scholar David Siller, 'there are evolutionary
links between French poetry and French rap'. The author
of the article, poet Margo Berdeshevsky, agrees, introducing
MC SOLAAR as 'an iconic figure whom some would dub the
rapper’s Baudelaire'. With sales of his second
album ‘Prose Combat’ (1994) surpassing 800,000
copies, MC SOLAAR is one of very few number of poets
to reach such commercial heights, thus making him more
recognisable in our contemporary world — or at
least within the francophone world — than Baudelaire
or any of the contemporary poets.
But
what is a poet? Attach the adjective hip-hop, Nobel
Prize-winning, experimental, spoken-word or journalist
to that noun — and ‘poet’ is still the
word commanding respect. I believe poetry as an artform
has never waned through the generations, even as it
has deviated in the past and continues to do so, in
countless directions and forms. Assessing the significance
and validity of these directions, deviations and dopeness,
that is where poetry journals can come in. But as courageous
as the poets are, so the journals must be, also (and
I do put rattapallax in this category and so will always
pick it up, even when I don’t recognise the man
on the cover).
One
man who eclipses even MC SOLAAR in my list of heroes
is Ryszard 'journalist with a poet’s soul' Kapuscinski
who, in the 1960s, was Poland’s only foreign correspondent.
As he was covering the struggles for independence in
1960s Africa, Kapuscinski wondered where were all the
writers, poets, and artists witnessing these tumultuous
times? Perhaps stuck behind desks back in Europe, more
obsessed by style than substance. Yet Kapuscinski later
rose to international fame for his technique, or rather,
his unique way of seeing the world. But I guess, he
had to be there to see it in the first place. SOLAAR
is also such a man, tasting all facets of life, and
his work shows it. Berdeshevsky’s piece on SOLAAR
is the most refreshing profile I’ve read in a long
time. Then again, she is a poet.
rattapallax
10 is the closest I feel to seeing through a window
— albeit limited by 100 pages, a CD and only biannual
publication — at the state of global poetry. It’s
pleasing to read some of the gems of international art
represented, and rattapallax puts it all in context,
allowing different languages and styles of poetry to
crisscross. It has also awakened my interest to as yet
undiscovered treasures.
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Australia’s
own Noise 2003 spoken-word series is represented in
issue 10 -- such gems as are known to my eccentric self,
besides SOLAAR. There is also the subcontinental Asian
Massive sounds of the US, following on from the UK’s
own Asian Underground, as well as the experimental Spanglish
arte loco, formed via the mythical but very-present
nation of Mexamerica and the Brazilian panache for words.
Será
prazer essa exigência cega a latejar na mente
o tempo todo?:
[Is
it pleasure, this blind demand
constantly throbbing in one’s mind?:]
asks
Brazilian poet Paulo Henriques Britto, and whilst working
on an answer, his ‘Trivial Epiphany’ gives
solace to the burning hearts and smoking minds of those
of us who, at times, fear losing the moment by thinking
too much.
The
last copy of rattapallax I got my dirty mitts on had
been issue 7 and, as I discovered with that issue, the
feature section ‘Indian poets respond to the Gujarat
Riots’ introduced relatively unknown territory
to me. I was also happy to be exposed to Matvei Yankelevich,
co-founder of the publishing-collective Ugly Duckling
Presse:
Is
there beauty enough in the world for poetry?
Is there beauty in poetry enough for the world?
('Pictures of Another Life’, Matvei Yankelevich)
I
believe the point of a review is to provide critique,
but with precious little else — or so I've found,
here in our multi-cultural-blablabla-Australia —
to compare rattapallax to, how can I criticise? And
by saying nothing in Australia comes close to rattapallax,
I don’t mean to diss Cordite. Rest assured, if
rattapallax ever felt to me to be static, I would be
happy to say it. Sure, there are some individual poems
I didn’t dwell on and a few I even disliked. And
I would suggest to the people behind rattapallax to
take more care in the concept of producing their next
accompanying CD. In terms of style and production quality,
this issue's felt too hotch-potch, and while there are
individual moments of brilliance, I was not inclined
to listen to it more than once.
But
I applaud the courage behind the idea of blending all
these languages — some, wonderfully, without translation
into English — and geographical spaces into one.
It makes my heart flutter, even as my mind is smoking,
but hey, that’s how I like it.
Me:
Alors amigos, bring on die unendliche Vielfalt tuschuur
to blow away tout-le-monde guey!
You: ¿Que?
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