I Shout Love and other poems

Martin Singleton was a poet living in Toronto.

This book is a reprinting of Milton Acorn’s first three chapbooks, followed by the final (1970) performance version of the title poem. The original 1958 version opens this volume.

A comparison of the two versions — 15 lines that evolved into 10 pages — is a good indication of Acorn’s growing poetic maturity. Certainly the 16 poems of In Love and Anger (1956), while showing some promise, also show many faults of the tyro poet: the clotted sonnet, the mechanical rhyme, the hackneyed phrase : “his frank and nameless gift of heart and soul.”

The work from Against A League Of Liars, four years later, is a quantum leap forward. The diction becomes increasingly natural, tighter, tougher: “like maggots through whip-streaked flesh / cans crawl the streets.” The phony dialogue of the earlier book is replaced by real concern about real Island people: “and even the rain tasted of coaldust.” Acorn’s political interests are couched in poetry that is increasingly daring and engaging.

The 14 poems of The Brain’s the Target, also first published in 1960, continues towards stronger diction: “skewjee trunks,” “a hatchet keened to a leaf,” social comment (“The Fights” is a superb portrayal of that seedy world), and a fine lyric voice: “go wherever the wind wobbles / among pinwheeling swallows.”

The full-tilt later version of “I Shout Love” combines social, personal, and political concerns. Cleanly Acorn means to shake the reader (or listener), to disturb complacent emotions: “and never say that love’s a mild thing / for it’s hand, a violation / of all laws for the shrinking of people.” The poem’s passion and wild humour, its love and anger make it the showpiece of this book. It is most certainly strong enough not to need “LOVE” written with 35 o’s clear across the page. It is almost impossible to reproduce live performances on the page, and it is often better not to try at all.

The reader would also do well to ignore anything in the 12-page introduction that is not purely factual. While editor Deahl’s desire to convey enthusiasm for Acorn’s work is laudable enough, such statements as “Acorn’s poetry is the most complex and varied body of work to be produced by a Canadian writer in this century” are so unintelligent as to beggar comment. A more factual and objective introduction would have allowed the reader to see Acorn’s strengths and gifts — considerable, but not one iota as magnificent as touted here —more cleanly.