McAllister's Mates Thirty Five
Hi all
A beautifully poignant poem from Kay Castaneda and a strange neo noir tale from Oliver Losinski.
These reviews are part of Reviewstack run by the great writer and pillar of the Substack Community : Thaddeus Thomas
McAllister’s Mates - An ongoing series of reviews of some of the wonderful articles, poems, and stories I’ve discovered on Substack (and other places) and more importantly the beautiful souls behind the works.
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Please take a few moments to read the works of these authors, artists, and creators and if you find their work as life-affirming and life changing as I do, then please let them know. We need to support and cherish these voices.
You can meet some of my other friends in the previous instalments: 34 33 32 31 30 29 28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
If you want to keep me in caffeine (and keep the ghostly voices whispering for the poetry side of things) - consider clicking below. For any who do so, you have my deepest gratitude.
Kay Castaneda
Before I begin I have to give something of a warning - this poem and my review of it deal with child bereavement, the poem - vividly and eloquently. If this is a subject that you find to be overly difficult or upsetting I will understand (as I’m sure Kay Castenda will too) if you pass this one over.
This is a poem about a terribly tragic event in Texas, a flash flood in Texas that killed two hundred people. It hit a girl’s summer camp with twenty seven victims under ten. A truly awful event.
The poem has a double structure with literal (yet still poetic) paragraphs intersected with fantastical, spiritual tercets. This is a powerful technique that has not been done for effect - it truly gives the feeling of being on the border of two worlds, and the paper thin line that separates them. This brings a balance to the poem that saves it from both mawkishness and empty despair. The main paragraphs are filled with intimate, sorrowful details yet expressed tenderly and with loving care. The tercets are more ethereal, and take on the voices of the children, innocent and perhaps transcendent, they are touching and perhaps as near to hopeful as one can be under the circumstances.
Art, and spirituality are perhaps at their most truly useful when they lend a voice to the most traumatic periods of our lives. Sometimes they help us to make sense of those harrowing times, often there is no sense to be made and all they can offer us is an outlet for tremendous grief. This is where this poem succeeds, the child-like nature of the opening lyrics which move through to the stony realism at the end gently guide the reader through a similar thought process to the nature of grief. An almost fantastical rendering of what happened gradually becomes grounded in the terrible reality. Yet the religious and spiritual framing of the events is still respected, treated as a dual reality that is not dismissed by confronting the physical. This is a wise, respectful and tender piece of writing, one that I believe could offer some comfort to anyone who is grieving.
Oliver Losinski
This story opens with a moody noir monologue as our hero meditates on his drabby, rundown surroundings. Now while this may sound like a Sam Spade homage (or even imitation) it’s actually a piece of delicious irony and immediately sets the scene for a wickedly clever story. You see, our hero is not Sam Spade, Rick Deckard, or even Hercules Poirot. He’s an out of work actor and the noir monologue serves as a perfect illustration of his delusions of grandeur and desperate need to dramatise every detail of his existence.
Conversely though, Tim Cape (the story’s hero) has a tragedy and vulnerability behind his equally funny and ghastly arrogance. As we follow him through the events, his character fills out and deepens, becoming layered and sympathetic. The people around him treat him either with disdain or celebrity worshipping fawning - none interested in treating him as a real person. You can almost viscerally sense his hunger to be loved, maybe even hated for his soul, not his circumstances. We also see his arrogance for what it is, a desperate attempt to cling to the success that has faded. He has fallen on very hard times indeed, tangled in the memories of his past success like the proverbial choking feathers of the albatross. The story raises the pertinent question of whether it’s more painful to achieve our wildest dreams and lose them, or never realise them at all.
While the tale never loses sight of its quirky humour, genuinely dark and sinister movements steadily overtake Tim’s imagined drama. It’s a tension that slips in behind the celebrity satire that was making you smile, and it hits all the harder when it finally overtakes you. It’s a masterful touch from an author who realises that danger is felt much more deeply when it slowly, imperceptibly wraps itself around you than when it openly hits at the beginning. The world of the story is just as dark, surreal, and layered with fascinating contradictions as Tim’s twisting thoughts.
And there I think I shall leave you to explore Tim’s world of garish neon and dark crumbling alleys for yourself. This is just the start of an ongoing comic, thrilling, neo-noir saga and I’m very much looking forward to exploring this world. Tim himself is perhaps my favourite part of this mystery and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about him, but he fascinates me. I find him amusing, awful, and sympathetic by turns. I will definitely be keeping tabs on this one.
I hope you enjoy these beautiful works as much as I enjoyed reading and writing about them.
You can meet some of my other friends in the previous instalments: 34 33 32 31 30 29 28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14 13 12 11 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Substack has proven to be a treasure trove and I already have a few more gifted writers lined up for my next review newsletter.
P.S Subscribe for your chance to get your work reviewed here!
You can also claim your FREE book of Poetry and art Hypnos Hermes - an epic poem presented as a medieval manuscript. A fantastical story written in verse enriched by many colourful and vibrant artworks.
If you want to keep me in caffeine (and keep the ghostly voices whispering for the poetry side of things) - consider clicking below. For any who do so, you have my deepest gratitude.