Fetishistic

Martin Singleton was a poet living in Toronto.

Fetishistic is Wynand’s fifth book, and it is an unsettling one. Both line and poem are very short, with surprisingly few overt images, although these are generally striking: eyes are like “the yearning /of ravens in some /newly seeded carrot patch”; words “tiny monarch’s wings”; boots “the animated cobblestones.” In one poem, Wynand writes of “penetrating everything, /rolling back the hidden, /which interests you most,” and this desire informs much of his book. Unfortunately, there is far too little variation in tone, theme, or language to off-set the formulaic obsession with women, who furthermore remain anonymous, existing only as objects of desire evoked (however indirectly) by the poem’s subject. Of course, one may argue that this is precisely the nature of fetishism, but the book sags under the weight of such monomania — even the unadorned titles (“Feather,” “Pillow,” “Snap,” and the like) do not excite. Fetishistic becomes tedious. When the poet does not talk about women, which happens occasionally, he can be interesting and evocative, but this happens far too seldom. Longer lines and poems, with much more variety of topic, would evoke more successfully this poet’s considerable skills: it is regrettable that such talent has been wasted on such slight and evanescent a theme.