David Zieroth. The Fly in Autumn.
Wells, Zachariah
David Zieroth. The Fly in Autumn. Madeira Park, BC: Harbour, 2009.
David Zieroth's eighth collection--he has also published an
acclaimed memoir, The Education of Mr. Whippoorwill--won the 2009
Governor General's Literary Award for Poetry. The Fly in Autumn is
imbued with a distinctly existential hue, reflecting changes in its
author's life, as Zieroth has, since his previous book, entered his
seventh decade and retired from a 25-year teaching career. The poems are
positively obsessed with death and the mystery of what happens next. The
potential grimness of the subject matter, however, is leavened by
Zieroth's injections of wry humour and what the publisher calls an
"absurdist twist." Many pieces explicitly relate the content
of dreams or take place in the liminal zone between sleep and waking,
such as the excellent "Sinking," in which the speaker wakes up
and starts sinking through his mattress, down through the foundation of
his apartment building, eventually to come "face to face with
molten flame, / calling him, undoubtedly calling, though last night / he
could not have imagined any such sound." In several poems,
reincarnation is touched upon as a possibility (the beautiful title poem
is spoken in the voice of a very Zierothesque blue-assed fly).
Appropriately, rebirth and metamorphosis are embodied formally in the
poems. While most of the book is composed in the syntactically
straightforward, plainspoken free verse mode that has been the
stock-in-trade not only of Zieroth, but of most Canadian poets of his
generation, he makes significant departures from it here. Besides a
pantoum, 16 of the book's 50 poems, including its opener, are
18-liners arranged in ABBACC heroic sestets. That this is a radical
departure and a reinvention is made clear in the poems themselves. In
one of them, Zieroth steals Rilke's famous admonition that
"you must / change your life." In another, the speaker refers
to his past "lingo" being "stale, J used up, degraded
down to lists." "These Poems Have Attitude" speaks
overtly and humorously of the adoption of a more
"old-fashioned" way of writing: "loose-lip hipsters hate
how near // we stand to one another, in our tight rows, / how easily we
break into marching songs, / not afraid to show we belong / to something
more than prose-like uncontrolled jitterbugging moves." Prose-like
the poems certainly aren't, but neither are they starchy, as
Zieroth plays around with line-length (anywhere from four to fifteen
syllables), caesurae and enjambments to keep his lines free-wheeling
within their constraints. One is as likely to find a straight iambic
pentameter--"To enter rot and raise no arm and shout!"--in one
of his looser poems as in these set forms (one of the Byronic
eighteeners is actually a footnote to another one, putting the lie to
any notion of "closed" form). For all that The Fly has to
recommend it, Zieroth and Harbour could have cut 10 or 12 weaker and
somewhat redundant pieces and had a better book as a result.
Nevertheless, the collection's core content makes its GG laurels
well-deserved.