The Green Parcel

John Challis, published by Bloodaxe Books

In The Green Parcel, John Challis communicates an attentive sense of the work of poetry, of human curiosity. We delve into “what only echoes underground” but with a carefulness as to what we retrieve and bring to the surface. Challis’ poems concern themselves repeatedly with “the best [that] is still below”, sensing that such artefacts or treasures are “safer there”.

Even a river resists breaching its surface; a fish is “a lump of solid water” that musters “in its defence // the whole pond”. In my favourite poem, ‘Minor Gods’, one solid block of text (only two stopped sentences), twists around itself in distinctly wormy fashion as it describes the “archives” and excavations of the worms living in our soil; the worm being a character who “yearns to find a way back to the surface.” Sometimes in these poems, the underneath is a stone vault or nuclear bunker. These is no clear dichotomy between life and death, warmth and cold, above and below.

 Mixed into these poems are others which excavate family history and more. But the ones that function with most emotional readiness are those on fatherhood and the speaker’s young daughter. In a serendipity typical of poetry, this book landed in my lap not long before a dear friend of mine will become a first-time father. When reading “the work we do defines us”, my thoughts echoed back not only to the poems suggesting excavation and poetic work, but also to the tenderly observed and small moments of fatherhood; the vigilance and lightness it involves.

 Most of those poems are notable for their slimness compared to the rest, often featuring lines of only three words or less as though to handle the subject with exceptional care. The parenting poems resonate throughout the book without dominating it, despite the speaker’s acknowledgment that “all my thoughts // were fuel / to the single / thought of her”. Closing the book with the bittersweet ‘Wreath’, I thought, pay attention; take hold of joy; and hold onto it for as long as you can.

Reviewed by Jenni Hampshire.