VerySmallKitchen announce the publication of lilmp by seekers of lice. This e-book is available for online consumption and PDF download here.
Some reading notes 06/01/11:
lilmp unfolds a poetics entwined in the materiality and soundscapes of its (own) language. Try saying the title aloud. Not unpronounceable, but hard for the mouth and tongue to negotiate between that second “l” and “m.” Maybe this is a palindrome, but the way back poses even severer problems!
lilmp is improvisatory, diaristic, re-searching, close to home as it heads out, scouring through windows and along streets and riverbanks, adrift in its vocabularies…
… words break into pieces, warp and move under the pressure and impetus of their own morphemes…
The first word of most pages of lilmp is underlined. It makes a title, but not fully. A kind of emphasis. A line. A place to start, maybe retrospectively.
Lewdness. Vice money. Are the “titles” found texts? Wormwound. Where would you find that? Found as made. Made as finding.
How do we relate word and image? Boundaries of play and pressure. What exactly is the mood and psychodynamics when language is worked in this granular way, shaped and edited with an awareness of its feel in the mouth, where it might also become stuck feathered flipping polyphemous calm don’t (say the title again).
lilmp language is often addressed to someone, sometimes quite directly, words forming, breaking and shaped by that unseen other:
have I turned you?
a thorn in yr side.
sharpness of the razor blade withering .
stupidity and dejection .
lowering the bar .
raised platform balance hake and oak .
Those extra spaces before full stops (but not before the question mark). Like words, punctuation, underlinings, scoring an emotion, making sure time is here, making everything sculptural, the other entering, although they only speak here on the texts own terms…
Why do I keep skimming over The Guardian photo of the boxers pinned to the wall, thinking it’s Joseph Beuys? It’s not. It is.
Sometimes – Pulled out & washing the weeds – is a distinct action described, but that is not principally the function of writing. Such acts become absorbed into an act of attentiveness, mattering in language, i-pod and hairy mac
If each page-theatre has its own autonomy it also knows/ senses the book/ poem it becomes part of, as tales, fickle perceived remedies/ puzzled sacrificed anxiety as in
clamour
pig’s snout glamour
grunt a
vocal-
isation Who’ll call
senses of measuring, pairs, weight, caught out, compound
how things move, oozing, utter, vocabularies. Both paper towel dispenser and telemachus, search engine and sheenlack
Compare lilmp with the recent bookwork/poem notes/ohms. Most seekers of lice books I’ve seen have several fragments to a page, run across pages, foreground a messy and potentially delirious act of reading over a quiet contemplation of white space and type
The same is true here: words fill the pages, but the format of these pages, like postcards, enables a focusing of attention, an isolation. If there is two words, they are printed large but is still two words proposed for out attention, underlining now close to the fractions dividing line:
ajar
flystyle
lilmp focus on the figure the ground takes care of itself is figure
lilmp isn’t the first seekers of lice work published by others – see The Bride of L’Amor-mor-l’amor in oneedit. seekers (other) books have a distinct aesthetic of paper (often tracing paper), binding, shape, a degree of standardised format within which each writing/ project terrapin . harpoon. can perform…
What’s the e-book equivalent of tracing paper? Of – as in notes/ohms – painting over tracing paper, blocking its blurred transparency, and/or letting the layers of text bleed through? If I think of lilmp as a vertical book-stack, it’s white card, transparency transferred into time, body, memory, heat sun-neck
A line flows on, but by the time you’ve made your way back to the left margin, so much has changed, or maybe not.
*
[…] has also written some reading notes to accompany the publication, here. Posted in Uncategorized | Leave a Comment » LikeBe the first to like this […]