Thursday, June 4, 2020

Ethan Vilu : Ink Monkey, by Diana Hartog


Brick Books, 2006



There are so many forms that a book of poetry can take, so many functions one can serve, and different forms will resonate in particular ways, with particular people, and in particular moments. A book of poetry can be a deep rumination on one subject, or a series of insights into a particular perspective, or can even take the form of a pastiche or a collage. After finishing Diana Hartog’s 2006 work Ink Monkey (I read it in one sitting, outside on what felt like the first real day of spring here in Calgary), I’ve concluded that the best way to characterize this book is to think of it as a freewheeling adventure – a clear-headed, highly observant stroll through a vast panoply of milieus and moments, all accomplished with an earnest traveler’s sense of wonder. In this way, it is a book of poetry which is particularly well suited to our current era of confinement and general malaise.

The poems in Ink Monkey are divided into textual sections which, in my view, can be thought of as “locales” in some very abstract sense – places along the stream of human experience where Hartog has stopped and taken in the sights. These sections are blessed with an almost geographical coherence. After the introductory notes of the opening “Twice”, we are taken to the desert in the long section “Oasis”, and we are made to see the complementary reflections on creation, mortality, and the particular nature of the everyday. We arrive at the endlessly instructive milieu of pre-modern/early modern east Asia in “False Start” and return there in “Japanese Prints”. In between, we spend time reflecting on the ephemeral beauty of jellyfish (“They seem to invite metaphor” writes Hartog) in an oceanic setting in “Jellyfish Suite”. Each section can, perhaps, be seen as a sealed-off poetic project; there is nonetheless a visceral and noteworthy feeling or even aura to the work as a whole, which is that of a grand tour of immensely interesting places.

Indeed, it is not through accident or chance that these subjects of attention are so immediately and intuitively fascinating; this is accomplished through Hartog’s incredible poetic finesse. In Ink Monkey, the poet pulls off the immense feat of writing in a way which is simultaneously elevated and conversational, undeniably poetic and yet thoroughly and intimately accessible. Seemingly concrete subjects like jellyfish and mountains are used as ornate prisms through which Hartog reflects a diverse array of profoundly human concerns. In this way, the book commands both the grand spontaneity and joy of a globetrotting adventure and the piercing articulation of the abstract which effective, honest poetry is so uniquely capable of. These, of course, are both qualities which seem to be uniquely tailored to the present moment; despite having been published fourteen years ago, this book is incredibly timely. As such, it comes highly recommended for anyone who needs adventure and insight in these trying, chaotic times.




Ethan Vilu hails from Calgary, Alberta. Their poetry longsheet A Decision Re: Zurich was published by The Blasted Tree in March 2020. In addition to editing for NōD Magazine and filling Station, Ethan is also a fledgling bookseller and collector.