Review: Albedo, by Colin Hollis, in ‘Apocalypse Now?’

When Colin read his first piece to Wakefield Word, at the Yard Bar in the now defunct Boon’s on Westgate, I wasn’t too sure. Since then, he has produced some of the best short fiction I have ever heard, and he has originated what I consider to be a new format: the “hollisette”: a lyrical story with two main characters, in 1500 words — ideal for Wakefield Word meetings.

In ‘Albedo’, published in the anthology, ‘Apocalypse Now?’ by Grist, Colin deals not so much with the end of the world, but more the way that we try to mitigate it. I told him that his story reminds me of certain Theatre of the Absurd pieces, such as Rhinoceros by Ionesco, and The Fire Raisers, by Max Frisch. I didn’t recommend these pieces to him, didactically. Colin had already accomplished what he wanted to. I merely mentioned them as other examples of what he had already achieved.

Colin explains in very few words the underlying reason why the planet is heading for destruction, without ever using the words “planet”, “heading”, or “destruction”. It is a story told in sub-text, a story told from below.

We had an online meeting to share our reflections on the editing process. We came to the joint conclusion that both our stories had been improved by interaction with the Grist editors, and that we considered the Grist editors to have acted with acuity and professionalism.

To read Colin’s story, you need to buy this book:
Apocalypse Now? edited by Michael Stewart
ISBN 978-0-9563099-7-6
184pp
Published by Grist 2024

Review: The Dogs, poems by Michael Stewart

• Smokestack Books: http://www.smokestack-books.co.uk
• Publication date: 1 July 2023
• 978-1-7391730-2-9
• 88 pages
• GBP 7.99

I heard about this collection some time before it was printed.  Michael Stewart read some of the pieces at Huddersfield Literature Festival in 2022, and he explained the concept of the collection: 

“The Dogs is a book about what humans have done to the world and what we have done to ourselves. Specifically, it is a book about ‘Man’s best friend’ — their origin myths, and their place in the world before they were co-opted into human society and ideas of pure breeding and dysgenics. The Dogs also imagines a future where dogs have developed the power of speech; led by the non-violent UnderDogs and the more radical direct-action Der UberHünd, the animals of the world begin demanding their rights.”

The realisation of that concept in 49 poems, in three sections, is more elaborate and varied than I was expecting, both in terms of the ideas that are examined, and the styles in which the pieces are written and presented on the page.  The collection deals with many complex and universal themes, but the treatment of ideas is built up out of concrete details, and engagement with the reader’s senses and emotions. 

The book opens with a one-and-a-half page introduction.  One of the things this conveys is the reason why I could never keep a dog.  I could not bear the responsibility.  I have inherited a sensitivity from my father, regarding animals.  I don’t like animals, simply because they cannot talk to me and tell me they are happy.  And so, I felt raw by the time I had finished my first reading of The Dogs.

The acknowledgments include a mention of Crow by Ted Hughes.  Another poet this collection reminds me of is Adrian Mitchell.  This is because of the combination of the literal, the personified, and the metaphorical in the subjects of the poems; the use of some non-standard typography, in combination with images (by Louis Benoit) and the way that the individual and the present is combined with the historical, social, and political. 

I have just re-visited the collection to count how many of the pieces have a conventional rhyme scheme.  I was surprised to find that there is only one.  That is an indication that Michael Stewart is a poet who knows how to write free verse that reads like poetry, rather than, as the so-called traditionalists say, ‘prose cut up into bits’. 

Every reader will find their own personal associations and reflections in this rich collection.  The most poignant of mine came to me while I was reading the third and final section.  I recall a punk I met in Leeds in unusual and constrained circumstances in the spring of 1984.  He had a Mohican, and was wearing leather, chains, Doc Martens, and a tartan mini-skirt.  On the back of his red biker’s jacket was written what I took to be the name of a band.  In Gothic script, it said ENGLISH DOGS.  He was in a cage, with no food or water. 

Review: Fifteen Dogs, BBC Radio 4

Fifteen Dogs is a novel by André Alexis, a Canadian writer. It has been adapted for radio by my drama mentor, Mike Harris. The result is a series of five, 15-minute broadcasts, which began on Monday 26 October at 10:45 GMT, and continued at the same time each day until Friday of that week.

They are available on BBC Sounds for 30 days from first broadcast, i.e. until 25 November 2020.

As I write this review, I am counting the hours until Part 5 is broadcast, and re-listening to the earlier parts.

The premise of the story is ridiculous: Olympian gods have a bet about the outcome of giving human thought and language to a pack of dogs. Like all the best stories, you can take it exactly at face value, or you can consider that the subject matter of the narrative is not what the story is actually about (a bit like the High Brow Low Brow round on Richard Osman’s House of Games).

The settling of the bet is beset by cheating, and unforeseen consequences, and goes down to the wire.

One of the things I learnt from the process of making Escape Kit is that a radio drama character does not fully come to life until they have been cast. The casting of this production is as good as it was for Escape Kit.

Zeus, who is the narrator, as well as the Supreme God, is voiced by Paterson Joseph. He is a leading Shakespearean actor, who I remember from a previous production of Marlowe’s Faustus. The way he switches, within the same character, from the detached narrator, to the Patriarch of Olympus, to the partial and fractious man who just wants a quiet life, in spite of his own impulses, is captivating.

Between Zeus, Hermes (Arty Froushan), Aphrodite (Emma Pierson), and The Fates, the play makes the Olympian pantheon sound like a family firm which is (if you’ll pardon the expression) going to the dogs.

The portrayal of the dogs is a sublime combination of acting skill and use of the medium of radio.

In every scene, every line, I wanted to know what happens next.

I found things in this production that are personal to me, that I won’t bore you with. I am sure, if you listen to it, you will find something personal to you.

Some of it is harrowing, some of it funny, some of it ironic, like life. But it isn’t life: it is entertainment, and so the boring bits have been scrupulously and skilfully missed out.

I should also say: it is quite rude. For that time of a morning on BBC Radio 4, it is quite commendably rude.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m000nwmf

Cast:
Zeus ….. Paterson Joseph
Aphrodite ….. Emma Pierson
Hermes ….. Arty Froushan
Majnoun ….. David Ajoa
Atticus ….. Paul Kemp
Princess ….. Kate Chambers
Bonny and Rosie ….. Lotte Rice
Mick ….. John Hollingworth
Nira ….. Prisca Bakare
Kim ….. Christopher Buckley
Women ….. Felicity Duncan
The Fates and all other parts played by members of the cast.

Adapted for Radio by Mike Harris
Produced and Directed by Clive Brill
A Brill Production for BBC Radio 4

My first review

The ‘Grist’ anthology was book of the week in the Bradford Telegraph & Argus in December.  Michael Stewart has just sent me a link to the review, and my story, ‘Slow Dance With A Skeleton’, gets a good mention.

http://www.thetelegraphandargus.co.uk/leisure/taleisurebook/booksreviews/9427147.Story____snacks____are_just_enough/