Gulf Coast Journal

Gulf Coast: A Journal of Literature and Fine Art, Summer/Fall 2007, Vol 19./No. 2

Over the past week I have been picking different pages out of Gulf Coast and reading whatever poem, essay, short story, review or interview appeared before me. One section included a short essay, an interview, and a series of artwork titled “Drawings for Lorenzo” which showed how the arts overlap and support each other. Another interesting part of the journal was a series of rough drafts of Mark Z. Danielewski’s latest novel Only Revolutions that included scanned-in papers that were handwritten or typed and then marked up with colored pen. This was really interesting to see what was titled “Evolutions” of a piece of writing. It shows the process of creation as a type of artwork itself and gives credit to all those dirty looking pieces of paper that get swept aside for the perfect type, grammar and look of a printed novel. The poems make up most of the journal and all have the richness of imagery although sometimes the themes don’t appear as easily as the visuals and other senses do. Themes that were common throughout are the darker side of American life with “New Day Rising,” “Kidnapper,” “Go________,” and “Appendix” and nature in “Floodsong 6: Bullfrog’s Liturgy of the Eucharist” and “Crab Alley.”

“Appendix” was one of my favorite poems that captured the more depressing but more realistic side of American life, singing small praises of the individual while commenting on the darker parts of our country people tend to look over.


Maya Washington
Appendix

(Figure 1.)

I lose my Kool Aid smile the week we watch
Roots in American History class; the vomit-laden

middle passage; crack of whip against human
leather—the remains of Kunta’s black foot.

Alex Haley. Genetic memory. Me, a Diaspora baby.
Africa, the desecrated Mama. America, our collective

trauma. It has something to do with my teacher—
she insists that we call her Ma instead of Mrs.

Peschko. I think she has children of her own,
but figure she likes the way it sounds- like some mother

Of the American Revolution.

(Figure 2.)

The teacher is old. Yellow chalk
Stains her fingers—golden strokes;

human canvas. She says, “Life originated in Africa.”
I wonder, is this woman crazy enough to get the story right?

In spite of the fact that (in utero) God painted Ma Peshko white.


I chose this poem mainly because of the way it sounded when I read it. Even in my head I could feel the connection between words and the rhythm they created especially in the third stanza into the fourth with “Haley,” “memory,” and “baby” blending in with “Diaspora,” “Africa,” “Mama,” “America,” and “trauma.” Although the lyrical feel of the words caught my attention first I noticed the theme that centers around Africa and how we originated there, no matter what our skin color is now. The allusions to Roots, Diasporas, and the American Revolution were very strong points that fit well in the small story presented here, where a student is in class learning about a history that was not too friendly, “the vomit-laden middle passage” shows that clearly enough as well as the whip against “human leather.” The images mixed with the allusions are very strong, showing the brutality that was enough to wipe away the speaker's "Kool Aid smile." It's like a time when they are learning that the world isn't a pretty picture but then the teacher seems to show a side that isn't brutal, one that may be a bit “crazy” but at the same time “right.” I haven't quite figured out the title and labeling two parts of the poem, one "(Figure 1.)" and the other "(Figure 2.)" but it would be interesting to see what others have to say about that. Overall I felt this was a poem that excelled at lyrical language, intertwining allusions, and creating lasting images of a classroom and America.

Besides the poetry I really enjoyed the short stories I've read so far from the journal especially "An American Education" and "The Scenic Route." The first one is a nonfiction essay from the point of view of the youngest of five siblings, the next youngest nine years older than him, and how they influenced his childhood and how he grew up. Topics that are addressed throughout his childhood through high school are learning how to read, sibling fights and friendship, divorce, best friends (how you can have a new one every year but there seems to be a necessity for one), bullies, drug use, jail, the military, sexuality of various kinds, pregnancy, and many other issues that lead to an education outside of school. It's told in small paragraphs, like a piece made up of small memories that created a larger story. Nothing drags on and there is always a touch of humor to every situation like one of the lines at the beginning, "...the futility of getting dogs to climb trees." The other story is fiction but feels very real, as though it is based on real life experiences. The first sentence opens up with the narrator's brother Benny deciding to be kidnapped, which caught my attention right away. It then leads on to show the disconnection of the mother and father from the son and daughter and how any of their relationships with other people are strained as well, except that Benny and Becky remain siblings, there for each other when needed.

Gulf Coast is published twice yearly: October and April. Send queries and manuscripts to Gulf Coast, Department of English, University of Houston, Houston, TX 77204-3013. Specify genre (fiction, poetry, nonfiction, or review) on the outside of your envelope. All correspondence must be accompanied by a cover letter and a self-addressed stamped envelope. Gulf Coast does not read unsolicited submissions from April 15 to August 15.

For more information and guidelines on how to submit visit http://www.gulfcoastmag.org/