McAllister's Mates Thirty Five
Hi all
Two very different contemplations on the powerful, and frightening spiritual forces of the natural world one from my old friend C J O'Hare and a new one Johnathan Reid.
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.
P.S Subscribe for your chance to get your work reviewed here!
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: 35 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.
C J O'Hare
There is a rich vein of tradition and legend in Celtic history regarding the unknowable sea, one that I would argue rivals that of classical Greek myth. While both are rich in magic, wonder, and heroism, the Irish stories are perhaps a shade darker and more tragic.
The tradition of a menacing, ambivalent presence hiding beneath the waves runs strongly through CJ’s latest poem. If these forces are Gods, then they are vastly different creatures from the decadent, philandering, jovial spirits of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hermes. Where the Greek gods demand worship and strike against sleights to their vanity, CJ’s celtic spirits are contemptuous and resentful of mortal usurpers.
Ragged, visceral imagery of listening stones shift into the raw and battered ears of our ancestors, or perhaps the true “inner ears” of our souls. This provides a vivid contrast to the “swollen, sleazy handshakes” of humanity’s prosaic rituals, usurping the deference to the sea gods. Perhaps these deities are enraged by our less heroic times, perhaps it’s the “big business deals” and the associated destruction of the oceans through pollution and climate change that so enrage the faerie folk of the waters. This juxtaposition of humanity’s dull and breezy affairs proceeding blissfully unaware of the raging supernatural forces surrounding them has a Lynchian feel. CJ’s scene of the howling sea raising an orchestra of ancient damned warriors while humanity cheerfully prepares their supper puts me very much in mind of Evil Bob lurking in Twin Peak’s haunted pine forests. Like the great David Lynch CJ grounds both his monsters and his folk in their time and place, rejecting generic tropes and lazy, universal symbols - Twin Peaks was the lurking horrors of small town Americania, this poem is the lurking horrors of an Irish coastal village.
An ingenious double entendre of the English and Irish languages seals this poetic incantation (no I’m not spoiling it). It’s the usual meticulously detailed yet subtly understated touch I’ve come to expect from this man’s work. There are some interesting anchors and touchpoints to his back catalogue, the sharp imagery, the exact yet following rhythms, and the use of domestic objects as layered emotional symbols. As a stand alone piece it’s wonderful, however when read alongside CJ’s other works it is fed by, and feeds into an ambitious body of work from a powerful and ever more refined author.
Johnathan Reid
I encountered this one through a post around pareidolia (the imagination projecting images like creatures and faces that had floated onto my feed. This piece takes the concept a step (perhaps a leap) further and explores the idea of active physical empathy with the natural world. If that sounds a bit airy fairy, rest assured Jonathan’s work here is raw and gritty.
The story opens with a scene that would feel right at home in a German fairytale, and while the story evokes their original mystery and sense of foreboding (unlike their more modern saccharine interpretations), it explores more complex and adult emotions.
The scene opens with an old man sitting beside a hollowed oak - the prose paints both ambiguously and hints at a spiritual link between the two. Is the man a projection of the tree’s consciousness, the green man of the woods, or a shared dream between all who venture here..? The villagers scoff or perhaps fear his promise to mend broken hearts, all except one girl with enough faith or courage to seek his help.
What follows is a fascinating story about reclaiming our sovereignty and indeed humility as a part of the natural world. We are indeed children of the earth and this story reminds us that we must embrace its gentle care and call for hard discipline. What follows is a mesmerising and eerie sequence where the tree does not just resemble her circumstances or raise an abstract memory - the tree’s bulk and knotted structure and the voice of the breeze become her body and she becomes the tree. The shifting,creaking wood softens into flesh and her skin and spine strengthen with the unconquerable might of an ancient storm tested Oak. This is much more than an abstract thought experiment or a meditative exercise, this is a true metaphysical transformation only made possible through this soul meeting this tree at this time. This is a raw, earthbound spirituality that eschews the imagery and trappings of religious systems for a deep, perhaps frightening communion with life itself.
A short and powerful story that holds even more ideas than I have covered here including an intriguing debate between responsibility, courage, and forgetting - but you will have to uncover that one for yourself.
I hope you enjoy these beautiful works as much as I enjoyed reading and writing about it.
You can meet some of my other friends in the previous instalments: 35 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.