Anne Kennedy. Photo / Supplied
The Sea Walks into a Wall
by Anne Kennedy
Auckland University Press, $25
It's obvious from her new poetry collection, The Sea Walks into a Wall, that Anne Kennedy is a writer for whom form ignites language. I can imagine Kennedy stretching and condensing each piece here until it relaxed perfectly into
its final shape, and that satisfaction is one of the collection's many joys.
The Sea Walks into a Wall is impressive not simply because of its range of tone and voice or its display of the depth of Kennedy's craft. (She won the Prime Minister's Literary Award for Poetry in 2021.) I'm moved by this collection's insistence on abundance, humour, and delight in a world of tension and lack. That even within the restrictions of a pandemic, "I'll meet you in paradise in my mask". What astounds me here, beyond technical experiment, is the overwhelming breadth of what is seen, encompassed, pressed into words.
The collection's title is only the first sign that, within these poems, all is not well. The sea hates the wall. The stream is sick. And — over and over again, in the list poem An Hour, "The person of the hour just earned the minimum wage less tax." This collection deals with unease — in and with nature, and between each other on personal and governmental levels — to the point of necessary exhaustion. Yet Kennedy captures and notates voice with precision, so the more obviously political passages and poems read not as cold castigation or censure, but as wholehearted woe, frustration, stubbornness, and apathy, and though anger is here, as it should be, it isn't overly justified as to become self-righteous.
Light On in the Garden, one of the longer, more essayistic poems of the collection, is also one of the angriest. It's a narrative of many layers of inequality, ignorance and the tension between money and art: