 Laocoön and his Sons. Marble, copy after an Hellenistic original from ca. 200 BC. Found in the Baths of Trajan, 1506. Escape I sit in the darkened theater and watch images of naked men on the screen. Is it wrong to be turned on by a marble sculpture from the Hellenistic period? Do you know the story? Laocoön warned the Trojans about Greeks bearing gifts (see also Trojan Horse) and the gods sent big snakes to punish Laocoön and his sons. The professor drones on but the message is clear: Sons suffer for the sins of their father. I, on the other hand, can’t take my eyes off the son on the right. He looks at his father and his brother and to me his expression is not Help but I’m out. Meanwhile, he slyly slips the coiled snake from around his ankle as if he’s shedding a wet Speedo. I return to my dorm room and geek out. Apparently, my guy wasn’t even connected to the others when they unearthed the sculpture’s fragments. Plus, in another version of the story, that son escapes the snake’s jaws altogether. And, anyway, the whole thing might just be a fraud. One theory goes that it’s a forgery by Michelangelo who passed it off as an antiquity for cash and you know which son he had his eye on. So, on the test when the professor asks about the paradox of beauty in the midst of suffering I write about the liberated son and take my B and call it good. Bill Hollands Bill Hollands holds degrees from Williams College, Cambridge University, and the University of Michigan. He is a teacher and poet in Seattle, where he lives with his husband and their son. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Hawai`i Pacific Review, The Summerset Review, Rattle, 3Elements, PageBoy, and elsewhere.
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 Dear Readers, Many of you have written in after noticing that our search function isn't working properly. This has been ongoing, up and down, to various levels, over the past few months. Typing keywords or names into the search field is supposed to pull up a complete list on our site of wherever those words appear, so readers can easily find work by a particular writer, for example, or the name of a poem. That isn't working very well right now, with some keywords pulling up nothing at all, some pulling up partial lists, and some seem fine. Our site is easy to navigate with a functioning search field, but without one we are truly disadvantaged. The daily posting style allows us to showcase more work and be more flexible, instead of having specific journal issues, but when something goes wrong with the search, it can be impossible to access the archive or a particular writer. The platform engineers are working on the problem. It is an engineering issue that is platform wide, not specific to our site or to anything we are doing. I have been constantly hounding customer service for some time now and have been told they are "aware" and "working on it." The site worked great for five years. Then we had a months-long problem last year where posts could not be scheduled to post in advance, they only posted right away. This was a huge headache for us, needless to say, as the accepted works are put together in advance of posting. It was finally resolved. Then this new issue came up, and it has been up and down. Right now it seems like almost no words work at all. I'm writing this just to let you know we are aware of the problem and have been proactive about it. Unfortunately it is out of my hands and the host has asked me to be patient. I feel we have been patient enough but there is nothing I can do to make them fix it faster, as it is not about our site per se but about their engineering issues. I have considered switching to another platform, but fear the devil I don't know. This platform until last year was pretty smooth and easy for me to run with my very basic skill set in technology. Things didn't go wrong very often. I am afraid of losing the archives or other mishaps during transfer, and there is no guarantee that the new platform wouldn't have problems, too. So I am asking for your patience, too, and thank you once again for reading us, writing for us, sharing links of your favourite works online. This too shall pass, hopefully sooner rather than later. love, The Ekphrastic Review  The Two Sisters, by Théodore Chassériau (France) 1843 The new challenge prompt is up. Please note, the challenges now have their own menu item at the top of the site, and are posted there so that you can easily find the latest and scroll back to see older prompts and info.
Please read the updated rules and instructions as well! Thanks a million. Find info on this prompt here.  Check out this article at So You Want to Write. Seven Ways Visual Art Can Help You Write Better Flash Fiction by Lorette C. Luzajic (editor of The Ekphrastic Review) Some of you who love ekphrastic writing may enjoy these tips for your short fiction practice, or maybe you write flash and want to know more about ekphrastic writing. Maybe you have recently joined us for the ekphrastic challenges and want some ideas for both ekphrasis and fiction.  Fishermen at Sea, by J.M.W. Turner (Britain) 1796 Fishermen at Sea The walls are red, vibrant, and I’m in too far, somehow inside a stomach or a lung, consumed or inhaled. The lining proud before the organ ruptures. The painting stops me, eyes blown open. A Turner sea in all its violence, in its relentless taking in and taking on the light. When the tears come, they come without a sound, landing on my lips. I lick them and taste the seawater. A gallery assistant is looking at me, lines spreading on his forehead, around his mouth. I see myself through his eyes: a small, still girl, petrified by a painting. I see myself through my eyes: [Lost is what cannot be recovered in any approximation of its previous shape, not a simple misplacing –keys falling behind the couch, a pen someone took home– but the full friction of what can only be reclaimed momentarily in memory and dreams. When I dream these days, I dream of the texture of the carpet underneath my bare feet and how well the desk concealed the coffee stains. I dream of faces that keep slipping through the definition of their shape.] I see the painting through my tears: the seagulls are the first to come into focus, these folds of white. Then the moon. Then the lamp. Then the certainty of drowning. Maria Schiza Maria Schiza is a freelance writer and translator from Thessaloniki, Greece. She has graduated with a master’s degree in Creative Writing from the University of Nottingham and is currently a PhD student at the University of Edinburgh, studying ekphrastic poetry. Her work has previously appeared in Persephone’s Daughters, on the website of Harvard’s Center for Hellenic Studies, in Voices, and others.  Author Interview- Simply Being: Roula-Maria Dib The Ekphrastic Review: Tell us a bit about the process and experience of writing this book. How did it come together in your mind, and what challenges did you face? Did things go according to plan, or did it take on a life of its own? Roula-Maria Dib: I would say the book came to me, poem by poem, and it became one unplanned piece all on its own. The idea was to write my way out of lockdown, and although I’ve been writing poetry all my life, I found myself rigorously limning experiences and reflections during confinement. During this time, my relationship with poetry changed somehow. It became my portal into the world at a time when I was physically bound in an upper-floor apartment, spacious but lacking a balcony and properly opening windows. I missed nature, relished in memories as I waited for better times. I sensed the painful birth pangs of the world and focused on the better outcome. Articulating these feelings through writing poetry helped me reflect on the different voices within, and the various levels of being that are at work. It made me realize that we need to preserve the adamantine quality of the spirit, which is not as flimsy as we may think it is. Poetry also helped me travel at a time when I was in constantly making the effort to ward off cabin fever. And it worked. One day, I realized that sometimes, the only means of travel is a train—of thought. I wrote it down in my poem, “Moonlighting,” which paved the way for other poems. Not all of the poems in the book were written during lockdown though, as many were penned and published in poetry journals a long time ago (pre-covid world). I added them to those I wrote during the early months of the pandemic and realized after about 30 poems that they are all expressions of different facets of being. I would say that it definitely took on a life of its own and sought me, rather than the reverse! As a Jungian scholar and someone passionate about mythology and symbolism, what kind of connection do you see between art, poetry, and personal or archetypal psychology? Is art cosmic? I believe in the cosmic nature of art. The archetypes are the essential movers behind all forms of creative endeavors (visual, verbal, musical), and personal psychology is also reflective of the archetypes at work during different circumstances and experiences. This is what Simply Being shows. Each poem has its own unique voice, and two poems from the same book can sound very different. The archetypal energies at work represent every single thought, idea, or personality that can potentially have a life of its own. As a Jungian scholar I also believe in the Jungian method: the performance of our ideas. Active imagination. Acknowledging the many voices, which are true to our psyche. The connection—or rather, common factor—between art, poetry, and the archetypes lies in the nature of the symbol. Symbols are actually archetypal images, embodiments of psychic “matter”. And because archetypes are impersonal and universal in nature, the archetypal images (symbols) connect us with the cosmos. What do the gods and their stories have to teach those of us who don’t see the world through a Romantic or mythic or religious lens? It doesn’t matter, one does not need to view the world through the filter of myth or religiosity in order to learn from mythology, legends, hagiographies, etc. because these narratives are reflections of archetypes inherent in us all. And the archetypes are these gods, alive, immortal, collective, omnipotent, reborn through all of us, and have the power and ability to create. And their creative abilities/potentials are realized and actualized through us, through our art. Hence literature and other forms of art that had always been modes of knowledge, as well as objects of beauty. It’s the repeated patterns (recast and re-awakened, generation after generation) that we learn from because we can relate to essential truths that have been acknowledged thousands of years ago and still speak to us in the same language of intuitively graspable knowledge. So whether we believe in them or not, these “gods” are in us, intrinsic and collectively shared. Your book of poetry as a whole explores the theme of “being” and what that means philosophically, spiritually, and practically. I find it intriguing that so many of the tools we use to examine and express consciousness and the human experience are creative and not tangible- analysis, myth, spirituality, poetry, and art, to name a few. How does imagination help us understand existence? Does this suggest or prove that humans are different in their “being” than other animals or life forms? Is consciousness linked to self-consciousness and memory? Do writing and art reflect consciousness or did they create it? The world, or life, is experienced in countless ways. Our empirical and rational perception of it is important, but it’s not all what really is. In an age of information and over-emphasis on the rational, sometimes it’s good to express the truth, rather than just read about it. That’s where the role of imagination comes into play. And that’s what poetry, art, mythology, and religion show us: they express truths that can be scientifically explained. Sometimes we are more exact when we are more expressive, and we tend to understand more when we stop attempting to rationalize things and comprehend them (cognitively); at times, the connection we build with truths told by symbols, images, and metaphors has a lot more to teach us. Thus, imagination helps us understand existence, as it works the archetypes into archetypal images, which is what art and writing is all about. The archetypes are potentialities that are actualized through our experience; they find their way into consciousness through many ways, art being one of them—so yes, I believe that writing and art reflect consciousness (and the conscious resurfacing of unconscious content). Consciousness is linked to both self-consciousness and memory, though not exclusively. As for the differences in “being” between humans and other life forms: our individual experiences, sensorial perceptions, and physical abilities vary, rendering us different in many ways. However, on a collective level, we share similar unconscious energies—again, the archetypes: their universal quality suggests that we share the same unconscious potentialities despite the fact that they are actualized or reflected differently. The interconnectedness between all life forms in the ecosystem suggests this common thread.  One artist you visit over and over as a writer and scholar is Vincent Van Gogh. He is also one of the most “ekphrasticized” painters in history, and we never tire of his imagery in museums, on mouse pads, pillow cases, and t-shirts. What is the draw for you personally? Why do you think his pictures are so essential to so many people? Van Gogh himself was an ekphrastic painter—he wrote and appreciated poetry, and he saw painting as another medium for it, one that is accessible to all, claiming that “poetry surrounds us everywhere, but putting it on paper is, alas, not so easy as looking at it.” He considered his paintings as visual poems. More or less, the popularity and accessibility of Van Gogh’s works lies in his colourful depictions of nature, which was very inspirational and important to him. Van Gogh, as a derelict who greatly suffered from poverty and illness in life, shows how there is always room for happiness in life, and in nature especially. We can feel his attempt to preserve life energy in his artwork, for he himself had announced that the only time he feels alive is when he paints. He found colours in the deepest depths of night, saying “I often think that the night is more alive and more richly coloured than the day”. Van Gogh’s paintings were all about light and brightness. Take for example his starry nights, yellow haystacks, and golden sunflowers, which people of all ages have enjoyed contemplating. He has brightened the lives of millions of homes that host replicas of these masterpieces. It’s the fact that they are sunflowers and the fact that his use of the colour yellow was very unique—he tries to capture the sun, to bring brightness and life into the inanimate. It was an incredibly special colour to him: “How lovely yellow is! It stands for the sun.” And in his own way, Van Gogh was aware of the archetypal energies behind his work—he declared that he dreamt of paintings and painted his dreams. He understood the therapeutic powers of art, nature, and poetry, saying, “I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?” And this therapy is contagious, which I truly believe to be the main reason behind the popularity of his paintings; the eyes of his fans can sense this positive energy that found life in his paintings, despite the artist’s hardships. Is ekphrastic writing a form of therapy or psychoanalysis? Well, in a way, the patience and contemplation involved in writing ekphrastic poetry (along with the focus and the internalization, articulation and projection of experience onto art) is therapeutic. During hard times like these, with all the seeming inscrutability of the world, it helps to quiet down our minds, “commit metaphors” (also from “Moonlighting”) and open our eyes to a few things we never really stopped to contemplate before. During the deepest of uncertainties, it makes us realize that there is an ineffability of the world that we must respect. As for the psychoanalysis aspect: although I am against regarding art as symptomatic or as a diagnostic tool, the projective nature of ekphrastic writing definitely manifests psychic content reflected through symbols and images. As I had mentioned earlier, the artist or poet is a vessel for art, for the concrete actualization of the archetypes. What other poets are you reading right now? I always go back to T.S. Eliot and Hilda Doolittle (HD). But I especially enjoy reading contemporary poetry such as the works of Ruth Padel, Nick Laird, Anthony Anaxagorou, and the wonderful contributors to Indelible: Hedy Habra, Steve Pottinger, Christine Murray, and my friend and fellow poet, Omar Sabbagh. Simply Being Roula-Maria Dib Chiron Publications, 2021 Get your copy through Amazon, here. Get your copy through Chiron, here. Dr. Roula-Maria Dib has a PhD from the University of Leeds in the UK. She is an Assistant Professor of English at the American University in Dubai, and the founder and editor-in-chief of Indelible, a literary journal. She is the organizer of the university’s Poetry and Spoken Word Open Mic series. Dr. Dib is a creative writer and literary researcher. Her research interests lie at the interstices of psychoanalysis, mythology, modernism, and gender studies, which involve frequent forays into Jungian psychology, interdisciplinary works on the literary and visual arts, and the bridge between modernist literature and science. Her poems, essays, and articles have appeared in numerous journals. She has authored a book, Jungian Metaphor in Modernist Literature (Routledge, 2020). Her hobbies include reading, traveling, photography, writing, and cooking. Click here to read Roula-Maria's poetry and prose in the archives of The Ekphrastic Review.   Adoration of the Kings, by Gerard David (Netherlands) 1515–1523? Pandemic Magi Peeking through the frame of my front bedroom window, I watch as he tenderly unloads plastic grocery satchels like precious cargo from the hatchback of his camel-coloured Prius. The pale young man’s bushy ginger moustache and beard push against the pleats of his blue surgical mask. He could pass for the middle king in Gerard David’s imagining of Matthew’s gospel. He deposits the sacks carefully at the front door’s threshold like gifts from the three kings - - - my front porch sort of sanctified by Instacart groceries. I accept the provisions with a full heart. The blessings in the sacks are not gold, frankincense, or myrrh, but just as exquisite after nine months of lockdown. Goldfish crackers! Frankfurters! Merlot! Jude Bradley Jude Bradley’s prose has aired on National Public Radio and has been published in Teaching in the Two-Year College journal, and Momentum magazine. Her poetry has been published by literary journals including Tupelo Press and Thimble. Her poetry and flash fiction re-envision classical literature and art and reflect on urban life in an ever-shrinking, ever-expanding world. Her poem “Argos” was nominated for the 2019 Pushcart Prize. She is lifelong writing teacher who loves to sing, dance, and garden. She is the Reverend Al Green’s biggest fan.  Photography by Mark Windham (USA) 2020. Click image for artist site. @mwindhamphoto Old Trees Amid the autumn’s regal masterpiece, Shielding the cyan river from the cold, Dark ‘gainst the background of the sandy fleece, Framing its banks, they stand—folks say—of old. Ginger and golden strokes of changing leaves Hover around their bark — the giants smile Jovially, nodding at the quick time-thieves, Knowing that all time is a short while. Lean silhouettes project a quiet grace, Zestful I would not call them, but content, Xenia’s spirit fills their form, her face Can be discerned among the hours spent. Venture then into the awaiting realm, Blend with the undergrowth, you weary soul, Neath ancient trees take refuge, let them whelm, Mend you and rule you, make you small and whole. Sasha A. Palmer Sasha A. Palmer is a Russian-born award-winning poet and translator, who currently lives in Baltimore, MD. Sasha’s poetry, translations and essays appeared in Writer’s Digest, Slovo/Word, Cardinal Points and elsewhere. Sasha has a thing for the word “amateur” and tries to follow the motto she has created: Live for the Love of it. Visit Sasha at www.sashaapalmer.com Ryan Sleeps Rough The painter knows sleep can free us, lift us from this bitter earth. O flight and fancy. Art in just two dimensions can trick us into hope, prank a wall apart though it still stands-- concrete or mortared brick. And so by paint and wish, this bench takes flight leaving below the slow night traffic, the last sip and all his belongings plumped beneath his head-- good night. It rises, rides above the windy leaves, glides over slanted roofs and windows dark and lit. Notice how unknowable and starless the sky is here. When I was little I believed if I stayed up all night on Christmas Eve, I’d see him and his magic deer, but sleep always got the best of me. And this illusion, though sweet, cannot cheat so well. Draw near and see how hard the surface beneath it really is. Matthew Murrey Matthew Murrey: "My poems have appeared in journals such as Prairie Schooner, Poetry East, and Split Rock Review. I am a NEA Fellowship recipient, and my debut poetry collection, Bulletproof, was published in February 2019 by Jacar Press. I am a high school librarian in Urbana, Illinois. My website is at https://www.matthewmurrey.net/"  Path under the Rose Trellises, Giverny, by Claude Monet (France) 1920-1922 Late Painting: Path Under the Rose Arches "Monet is only an eye—yet what an eye." Paul Cézanne And now, the flowering arches become a child’s scribbles, broad scrawls, sprawls of colour you can’t quite see: braided ribbons of burgundy, navy, sienna, ochre, umber. Each arch opens a passage, a tunnel, a path that leads on. No more working en plein air, no more striving for the elusive moment. No more series: stacks of wheat, a cathedral in sunlight, trains at the station; no more smoke, fog, the sun lying down on the sheaves. So many ways to say good-bye. The short flicked brush strokes that tried to catalog light’s changes now become gestures, swoops and swirls. Monet said My poor eyesight makes me see everything in a complete fog, and I’m feeling this, too-- something not yet diagnosed, needing more light to read. Typos flit on the screen, escape my scrutiny. Lines fly off the page during a reading. But I’m not ready to quit, and neither was he. Despite his growing cataracts, he picked up a brush, having memorized the placement of pigments on his palette, and started in on the water lilies, les Grandes Decorations, from the garden of his memory, removing the horizon, letting the flowers float on the deep blue waterfall of radiant light. Barbara Crooker This poem was first published in The Valparaiso Poetry Review. Barbara Crooker is the author of many books of poetry; The Book of Kells and Some Glad Morning are recent. Her work has appeared in numerous anthologies, including The Bedford Introduction to Literature, Commonwealth: Contemporary Poets on Pennsylvania, The Poetry of Presence and Nasty Women: An Unapologetic Anthology of Subversive Verse. www.barbaracrooker.com |
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January 2021
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