Project Tag: Australia (page 1 of 1)

Cordite–Prairie Schooner Fusion: Work (2012)

I met Kwame Dawes, the editor of Lincoln, Nebraska-based journal Prairie Schooner, at the Struga Poetry Evenings in Macedonia in 2011. Following the festival, Kwame invited me, as the editor of Cordite Poetry Review, to collaborate on a joint issue, to be published online.

Our collaboration became the first of what would become known as Fusion, a new online series features collaborations between Prairie Schooner and interesting, innovative online literary entities from around the world that seek to create dynamic fusions in literature and art.

A detail from 'Army of Mirriams', by Michelle Ussher.
A detail from ‘Army of Mirriams’, by Michelle Ussher.

The Cordite–Prairie Schooner Fusion, with the theme of ‘Work’, featured poems from Cordite Poetry Review by Tom Clark, Lorin Ford, Derek Motion, Brendan Ryan, Adrian Wiggins, Jennifer Compton, Ivy Alvarez, Barbara De Franceschi, Liam Ferney, Peter Coghill, M. F. McAuliffe, Benito Di Fonzo, Esther Johnson, Geoff Page, Emily Stewart and Margaret Owen Ruckert, plus audio poems by Sean M. Whelan & the Interim Lovers, Maxine Beneba Clarke, komninos zervos and Benito Di Fonzo.

It also featured poems from Prairie Schooner by Hedi Kaddour (translated by Marilyn Hacker), R. F. McEwan, Ander Monson, Linda McCarriston, Toi Derricotte, Marvin Bell, Marcella Pixley, Ted Kooser, Moira Lineham, Sandy Solomon, Jenny Factor, John Engman, Gary Fincke, Dannye Romine Powell, John Canaday, James Cihlar, Nance Van Winckel, Floyd Skloot and Roy Scheele.

Illustrations were provided by Michelle Ussher and Watie White.

In addition, the feature included interviews with Derek Motion, Jennifer Compton and Nance Van Winckel, plus eight more interviews on the Cordite site.

Final Friday (2010)

This 24-page A5 chap­book was published privately by sydneypoetry.com and launched at a Final Friday reading in Newtown, Australia (October 2010).

Both sydneypoetry.com and Final Friday were initiated by Adrian Wiggins, co-founder of Cordite Poetry Review

The launch event was pretty intimate: a group of people crowded into Adrian’s lounge room paid me the ultimate compliment by listening to me rant on for about an hour, and then subjected themselves to a Q&A with me as well! 

As only 15 copies of the book were ever printed, you can access the poems below.  

Bonfire of the Vanity Presses (2010)

My PhD thesis, entitled Bonfire of the Vanity Presses: Self-Publishing in the Field of Australian Poetry, was approved in 2010, and was undertaken at Swinburne University of Technology in Melbourne, Australia between 2005 and 2009.

Here’s the abstract:

This thesis explores the practice of self-publishing in the field of Australian poetry. Self-publishing today can be seen as part of a long tradition of alternative publishing. Despite changes in the technologies of self-publishing, including the continuing reinvention of non-book publishing activities, poetry remains an area of the arts where the self-published book contains both symbolic and social capital. Rather than offering a basic defence of self-publishing or a textual analysis of self-published works, the Exegesis ‘reimagines’ self-publishing within what Bourdieu might term the ‘field’ of Australian poetry. The thesis also incorporates an Artefact composed of published, self-published and privately-published books. Despite technological changes in the way books are published, it argues that non-mainstream print publishing forms such as the chapbook still play a significant role in fostering innovation in poetic forms. In doing so it seeks a more sophisticated understanding of the literary field, and the role of books as signifiers of prestige within that field.

The artefact consists of six chapbooks: The Happy Farang (2000); 8 poems (2002); Re: (2005); Abendland (2006); Dead Poem Office (2007); and Morgenland (2007).

The thesis also includes a section on the making of We Will Disappear (2007).

Steam (2009)

‘Steam’ is a series of prose fiction pieces I wrote while living in Gangnam, Seoul, in 2009, where I was undertaking my second Asialink residency.

‘Steam’ is set in a fictional future Korea, and features a young male Korean by the name of Duck-young Moon. The story describes his search for the truth about his grandfather’s disappearance during the Korean War.

Duck young’s quest also features a cast of mostly Korean characters, including Duck-young’s brother, Hyun woo, the elusive Doctor Kang and his assistant, Gilmo.

‘Steam’ is a story which may one day become a novel, but started out as a sequel to ‘Smoke’, a much shorter story about an Australian woman living in Melbourne.

The benefit of the Asialink residency in terms of the writing of ‘Steam’ cannot be over-stated: the characters, places, historical events, incidents and dialogue of the story are all a result of my being able to spend three months living in the place I was describing.

As was the case with ‘Smoke’, the 31 prose pieces that form ‘Steam’ were posted consecutively to this website, without further revision.

While the full text of ‘Smoke’ remains online, I’ve decided to take down ‘Steam’ from this site for the time being, as the text requires a great deal of revision.

For now, you can read what I posted when I finished writing the first draft.

Smoke (2007–08)

In November 2007, while living in Melbourne, I began writing prose poetry pieces about a girl named Jet Fader and her mysterious Korean boyfriend, and posting them, unedited, on this website.

By February 2008, what had started out as a meditation had morphed into a 31-part series with a vague narrative arc and potential for plenty more.

These pieces would later be compiled as ‘Smoke’, and would serve as a foundation of sorts for ‘Steam’, another story featuring the same characters, which I drafted while living in Seoul in 2009.

Dead Poem Office (2007)

In July 2009, as my PhD thesis was in its final stages of production, I discovered that one of my chapbooks had been archived by the National Library of Australia. But it had never been published.

Dead Poem Office (2007) is a 24-page A5 poetry chapbook, with a wrap-around colour cover, featuring 19 poems.

As it turns out, the NLA’s is one of the only copies of Dead Poem Office that was ever printed, and was apparently bought by a roving NLA staff member at the National Young Writers Festival in Newcastle in 2007, at the traditional zine and book fair.

I hadn’t been intending to sell Dead Poem Office at all. Its title is a tongue-in-cheek reference to REM’s Dead Letter Office (1987), an album of ‘b-sides compiled’. The idea was to collect together a chapbook’s worth of poems that had been published previously in journals, but that had not made the cut for We Will Disappear. It was just a mock-up – but in the noise and bustle of the book fair, I either sold or traded it to someone, probably for as little as a dollar.

How it’s come to reside in the NLA I’m not entirely sure. The person I sold it to might have been an undercover collector, snapping up copies of zines and chapbooks for a specific purpose. Whatever the reason, the book has been catalogued, is available for reading by the general public, and is now even available for digital download, for a price. I’ve also received emails from book distributors inquiring as to its availability.

The irony of this is clear: despite my best efforts to present to the world an ‘authorised’ version of my poetic output, in the end individual authors have little or no control over which of their works will be remembered or archived. I now know, if only on a trivial level, something of what Patrick White must have felt all those years ago when he discovered a copy of his book The Ploughman in the NLA.

While I could always simply print up another copy (I still have the text and the cover image on file), I decided to pay the $13.20 required to have someone at the library scan Dead Poem Office electronically and then send it to me via email. I included a copy of this scan as part of the Artefact because of the way it symbolically both represents and erases me as a ‘self-publishing’ author.

Dead Poem Office represents and archives me by way of the Dewey Decimal number Np A821.4 P912 de hand-written on its front cover. However the scanned copy is of such poor quality that my name, originally printed in silver ink on the cover, is unreadable, as is the image used for the front and back cover. My name does not appear on any other page of the book. All that is left is the title and the poems themselves.

In the end this is fitting: for many poets, libraries also constitute a ‘Dead Poem Office’, a final resting place for poems that may sit unread,just like undelivered letters, for many years. While this represents a cautionary tale for any poet distributing their works in public, it also shows that books continue to have an uncanny ability to outmanoeuvre their authors.

Self-published chapbooks are indeed actors within a field of books whose only real enemy is that ‘bonfire of the vanity presses’ all writers fear. For this reason alone they should be celebrated, discussed and remembered.

My thesis demonstrated that various publishing activities can indeed constitute a performance, a ‘publishing of the self’. Publishing, in the literary field at least, is a word that describes a multitude of public and private acts. The reinvention of old formats for books, including the chapbook format, is indeed just one aspect of this multiplicity.

While many forms of publishing and dissemination are possible, when poets use traditional formats, they are in fact entering a conversation with older fields of prestige. The five other chapbooks presented in my PhD thesis represent a performance of self-publishing, rather than a simple denial of mainstream publishing.

The sixth book discussed in m PhD thesis, We Will Disappear, is a performance of ‘mainstream’ publication that also bears some hallmarks or characteristics of other kinds of publishing, including self-publishing.

Re-examining the fields in which these poetry books were produced involves an analysis of the role of books as signifiers of prestige within those fields. The spaces between these fields of publishing are likewise occupied by a variety of actors, and their creative works (in this case poems, chapbooks and other book objects). Despite differences between fields of publishing, books can also be read as a performance of struggles within the field(s) in which they are produced.

Despite technological changes in the way poets communicate their works to the world, older book forms such as the chapbook still play a significant role in poetry publishing. The performance of poetry book objects can tell us a great deal about the way the field of publishing works. In doing so, they inspire a more sophisticated reading of the literary field, and of the importance of books as signifiers of literary and cultural prestige.

This text was originally published as part of my PhD thesis, “Bonfire of the Vanity Presses: Self-Publishing in the Field of Australian Poetry” (Swinburne University of Technology, Melbourne, 2010).

Dead Poem Office (2007)

Kate’s Photograph
Xanana’s Dog
The Sprawl
Thomas Pynchon & the Art of Anonymity Maintenance
A Photographer’s Wet Dream
Cars
[ ]
Last Night Betty
The House That Cortez Built
Tribesco Krowe
America
Slam!
Peppercorn Rent
Black G.S.T.
Funeral For Democracy
Dead Poem Office
The Boys Who
Run Lola Run
Leaves of Glass

We Will Disappear (2007)

Papertiger Media published my first full-length poetry collection, We Will Disappear, in 2007. It was launched at the Melbourne Writers Festival and the Queensland Poetry Festival.

We Will Disappear navigates the landscapes of loneliness and solitude, drawing on ten years of transformative travelogues and engaging elegies. With its central preoccupations of global politics and power, We Will Disappear is a snub to the self-perpetuating philosophies, particularly in relation to war and terror, of Western ’empires’, tempered all the while by the poet’s gentle sense of acceptance and hope, as it maps the mysteries of mortality in a strange and fast-disappearing world.

The writing of the collection was funded by a grant from the Australia Council for the Arts. 

David Prater’s We Will Disappear is a full tilt swerving syntax for a crazy world – speedy, accurate, satiric, tender, intense, visceral, engaged. It’s chocked with wake up calls and rhythms for the new century, sounds of cities, seas, planets, spinning and disappearing, and a lament for what’s passing. All along Prater pitches a dark destabilising line then subverts it with an explosion of pure lyric joy. Formally inventive whilst also dropping beats of pop media jargon and all the transitory idioms we live in, this is a new language for all tomorrow’s aching parties. Exciting, highly charged, and affecting.

—Jill Jones

We Will Disappear is an attempt to make sense of mortality and the essential questions of life and existence. From the mysteries of birth to landscapes of loneliness and solitude; from the inevitably political nature of human interactions to the seeming pointlessness of death and passing; from imaginary constructs of the mind to the transformative power of language in a strange and fast-disappearing world, this inventive, long-awaited and funny first collection overflows with references to pop cultural icons including Punky Brewster, Justine Bateman, James Mason, Woody Harrelson, Tintin and Mohammed Ali, and bands including Tortoise, Pavement, Sonic Youth, Slowdive, Bjork and AC/DC.

The poems collected here were written over a period of ten years. The collection embodies several significant time periods and places, from its late-twentieth century beginnings to more recent times. A good number of these poems were written while travelling in Asia, the United States and Europe, while some of the more significant elegiac pieces were written in response to Australian writers and writings.

Prater’s half rhymes, alliteration and shuffle of syntax are heady. There’s often a parade of phonemes teasing you. You try to wrestle-hold the words but they spin you around as if you were a Jack Russell hanging onto a little boy’s tailcoat.

—alicia sometimes

If I had to name significant time periods they would include for starters the late 1990s, when the title poem and several of the more elegiac pieces were written; it was at this time that I first travelled overseas, to Thailand and Laos and experienced the world as a tourist (or ‘farang’ in Thai); much of my writing since has been written from the point of view of the stranger, or outsider; it is from this perspective that I reflect on the chaos and destruction wrought by Western ’empires’ in the name of their own self-perpetuating philosophies, particularly in relation to war and terror.

Leading on from this, another significant period of writing was from roughly 2002-2004, in the ‘post 9-11’ world, during which my central preoccupations became more explicit. In hindsight it’s no coincidence that I travelled to places like New York, Berlin, Hiroshima, and Ho Chi Minh City during this time, as my writing and thinking during these trips was focused on making sense of the atrocities and horrors that have come to be associated with such places. As an Australian, I am aware of the naivety of the position that these events are ‘distant’ from us, or have already disappeared into history – the fact is that as a human being I am inextricably linked to the workings of global politics and power.

We Will Disappear pops and buzzes with references to drugs (Dexedrine, grass and cigarettes), military hardware (atom bombs, Semtex, F-15s and Minutemen) and virulent diseases (SARS), not to mention communications technologies, both current and defunct (satellites, radio, daguerreotypes and computer coding). Relentlessly racy, Prater hits hard and fast in his attempts to keep up with the wrenching juggernaut of our times.

—Justin Clemens

The third and perhaps most significant period of writing represented in this book is 2005-2006 when I was lucky enough to receive a New Work Grant from the Australia Council for the Arts, and was able to complete some more thematic poems to round off the collection. These poems can be characterised by a perhaps greater sense of urgency and anger, although the two poems that ‘bookend’ the collection – ‘Abstract Moon’ and ‘We Are Living’ – do contain a more gentle sense of acceptance and hope.

Informed by the knowledge that human life is short and complicated, the poems of We Will Disappearconstitute an attempt to write these truths in a language informed by the realities of 21st-century life, as well as the passing of close friends and family, famous and not-so-famous poets, even animals and ideas.

One famous poet whose spirit haunts this collection is Bruce Beaver, for whom the poem ‘(On the Tomb of) Victor Bruce’ was written, shortly after his death.

I was fortunate to meet Bruce in the early 1990s when I was writing my Honours thesis on his work in relation to that of Rainer Maria Rilke, and I can’t stress enough how much of an impact that meeting, and his astonishing ouvre of poetry, has had on my poetic development. He was an everyday god, and his passing is a great loss.

Beaver was also, however, ultimately aware of the transience of all things and of the inextricable link between what Rilke referred to as celebration and lamentation – two words that, I hope, sum up what I am trying to do with my poems in the all-too-brief time I have left in which to write them. My poems are ultimately aware of their own transience, in an imaginary sense. The poems will disappear. We will disappear.

We Will Disappear (2007)

[envoi]
In a Dim Sea Nation
Abstract Moon
We Will Disappear
(On the Tomb of) Victor Bruce
Northern Rivers Pastoral
While Your Children Are Small
In Heaven It’s Always Raining
Avalon V
Airliner
Post-Holocaust Tram
Between Empires
1001 Nights
Dexedrine Bombs
When We Were in the Wild
Lovers / Lateness
Ada
Ken
Japanese Bush Poet
The Happy Farang
Non-Touristic Trek
Tintin & the Plain of Jars
The Chao Le
Ich Bin Ein Tourist
Od(e)
Entgegengesetz
Fassbar
Kerze 1
We Miss You!
Spring*
Peace Falls
Bustling
A Veteran of the Club Scene
Identikit Nation
City Slacker
There’s a Wild Jack Russell in the Moon
The Bloody Hollys
Ma Sonic
Code Pervin’
Let’s Fight the Pop-Ups!
Machines for Living In
Search Poem #9
Kyoto Crow(s)
Betty Conquers All
Silver Rocket II
‘Wounded or Sound’: The Death March of Johnny McQueen
Karin Revisited
Unmarked Harlem
She Finds Her Speed
The Rise & Fall of Davey Dreamnation
(On the Tomb of) The Unknown Waitress
We Are Living
Caroline
5 Haiku SMS

Going Down Swinging 24 (2006)

Like most good things in life, my stint as co-editor of Going Down Swing­ing, Australia’s finest lit­er­ary mag­a­zine, was all too brief.

I came on board for just one issue but the expe­ri­ence was fan­tas­tic: we selected over 140 pages of poetry and prose, along with a bumper eighty page comics sec­tion, mak­ing this issue one of the biggest (and, of course, best).

I was flat­tered to be asked to be MC for the launch of the issue in Decem­ber 2006. Props to my co-editors Steve Grimwade, Lisa Green­away and Mandy Ord. Here’s a quote from my editorial for the issue:

This is the first time I’ve ever worked closely with a group of fellow-editors and let me tell you, the GDS editorial meetings are barnstorming affairs, where the seemingly impossible task of selecting a book’s worth of content from thousands of submissions takes on epic proportions. I’d like to be able to say that these meetings were full of tears, tantrums and tie-breaks but the truth is, working with Steve and Lisa has been a fantastic experience.

To order copies or to find out more about submitting to GDS, visit the website.