The struggle to sustain and innovate, Arbutus

Arbutus: Reviews & Criticism

It would be inconsiderate and cruel not to admire, respect, and encourage any undergraduate's attempt to pursue and establish a serious literary publication. That then undergraduate students Jeremy Voigt and Jordan Hartt created a respectable online literary site, Arbutus, featuring fiction, non-fiction and poetry, is a wonderful testament not only to the enduring appeal of literature in all its forms, but also to the passion and commitment of its young practitioners. But that was back in 2000, and after ten years of being online Arbutus has neither matured into, nor carved out, a sophisticated and insightful literary presence. Yet this is not to suggest that Arbutus is entirely bereft of technical skill and analytical depth. In fact, most of its articles and samples of works featured do exhibit earnest literary care and endeavor. Take for example, Anselm Parlatore's review of poet Anita K. Boyle's "Bamboo equals Loon":

It is a robust and bracing read. Most of the poems won't let you go. They announce themselves with a sense of urgency and commitment that is at once not only reassuring but also, at times, alarming, yet healing.

Parlatore's analysis is well written and cogent, a playful mixture of literary criticism and artistic advocacy. Unfortunately, and after a studied discussion about the merits of the collection reviewed, I was a bit taken aback after reading an actual excerpt from Boyle's poetry. Notice the incongruity between Palatore's enthusiastic support of Boyle's work and the actual quality of the poem under review:

Don't get me wrong: despite a stunning dexterity in the book's orchestration, these poems are all clear and precise, declarative statements of discrete disclosure. That's where the grace, I mentioned, becomes evident. The poems: "Lure of the Loon" in its entirety;

I was unaware that this world
could become an anxious monstrosity.
But it does hold doubtful comforts
like unearthly calls I hear from the loon at night.
I did not know things out there
would urge me to lose my mind:
beasts and cries and barraging undercurrents
pushed me toward the edge of the world I knew.

Needless to say, I felt somewhat let down and cheated, and not because Boyle's poetry is average, at best, but because Palatore is suspect in her enticement of the reader into believing that "Bamboo equals Loon" is that piece of poetic craft that not only stands to revitalize the genre itself, but which also thoroughly expresses and represents all that ails us hapless denizens of the digital age. And don't get me wrong, Palatore is a fine writer and Boyle's poetry is acceptable; but what is at stake; however, is the founding and maintenance of an online institution reflective of a degree of literary credibility to which Arbutus aspires. Far too many sites exist that either pander to their own set of preferred writers, or seek advancement through the unwarranted praise and adulation of others.