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In this poetry collection, Carolyn McCurdie brings magic to every moment, no matter how everyday. Bones in the Octagon is full of poems that are simple and sweet; one focuses on the memories associated with a blue and white tablecloth while another details the smell of freshly baked bread.
McCurdie’s writing easily carried me through the collection, maintaining a steady tone all the way. This, combined with the dream-like imagery, resulted in some very striking description. One poem depicts how “our eyes are less on the stars, / more on the spaces between”. Another captures memory as paint “on the dreaming / walls of my mind.”
‘Power poles along the street’ is an interesting piece despite being, as the title reveals, very commonplace. The poem has no full stops or commas; instead McCurdie relies on line breaks to create these pauses. This creates a small breath in between phrases and a similar effect to punctuation. The lack of full stops, however, reduces the harshness of each break and therefore results in an atmosphere that is more light and airy.
One of my favourite poems was ‘Invitation to dance’. It is a piece that dares the reader to “Walk with me. / Pack no bags.” Still, the poet doesn’t forget to remind the reader that the past is important, and how it’s where “You might look through your blinking to that younger / self”. This final stanza captures a feeling that, despite having no name, is so pervasive: the want to tell your younger self what you, in the present, know. It explores the importance of being able to accept your old self and recognise the distance between old and new. It is this common yet complex feeling that McCurdie manages to craft so deftly.
I felt that many of McCurdie’s poems were on the edge of something different like a beginning or a kind of rebirth. ‘January Begins’ is an obvious example, as it details the connection between Janus the two faced god and the idea of open doors and possibility that comes with the new year. Its final line—”Go through”—is a striking ending in its simplicity.
Although I would’ve liked a couple of longer poems, Bones in the Octagon was still a beautiful collection to read. The consistency of McCurdie’s writing allowed me to truly immerse myself in her words, where enchanting language could be found in the most ordinary comparisons and objects.
The final poem still felt fresh and new even at its place right at the back of the book. The title of the poem itself, ‘The time of fire is over’, reminds me of the rebirth of a phoenix from the flames and it invites the same kind of possibility explored in ‘January begins’. McCurdie describes how “your skin is growing brittle” but still “your feet stand firm.” The final lines—”your toes curl, grasp / the edge”—are a strong affirmation and conclusion that describes the sensation of being at the cusp of something new; it is an ending that feels hopeful.
Reviewed by Emma Shi
Bones in the Octagon
by Carolyn McCurdie
Published by Makaro Press