Bookblog #56: A sad post



Dorothy Porter, What a Piece of Work (Picador 1999)

I was in possession of a $25 share in a Gleebooks voucher. Dorothy Porter had died, shockingly young, just weeks before, and I'd never read more by her than an occasional short lyric in an anthology. I'd been bored by the movie of her most famous verse novel, The Monkey's Mask, even though it starred the miraculous Susie Porter (I don't think they're related). But What a Piece of Work practically leapt at me from the upstairs poetry table: set in Callan Park psychiatric hospital in 1968, it features a poet inmate named Frank, who had to be in some way based on the great Francis Webb, who was in the actual Callan Park hospital at that time. So this book is set in a place I know reasonably well -- we celebrated out 25th non-wedding anniversary in one of its buildings, and walk the dog there regularly -- and features a poet I immersed myself in in my mid 20s. I bought it, took it home, read it, and can't say the earth moved for me. In fact, I can't say much about it at all. As a novel, it doesn't do much: I had trouble telling if there was a story beyond, 'Doctor is neurotic, has some seriously wonky sexual relationships but it's all because of his mother with whom he may have had sex, and someone is killed in a fire.' I don't feel I learned anything about Francis Webb: I'd be very wary of assuming that Frank the poet is actually meant to be a portrait of him, even though they have some characteristics, such as Catholicism -- in common. The verse is accessible, but mostly didn't touch the sides for me. The structure seems to relate to alchemy, but it's more than 30 years since I read Jung's book on the subject, and the references lacked sharpness for me. If anyone were to ask my recommendation for a good verse novel, I'd strongly suggest starting with one of Steven Herrick's -- written for young readers, they have to have a story, authentic emotion, real characters and a sense of humour. If What a Piece of Work had any of these, they were too deeply buried for my unsubtle mind. Sorry!

Posted: Sun - February 8, 2009 at 10:27 AM           |

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