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Dorothy Porter, The bee hut

March 16, 2010
The bee hut, by Dorothy Porter

Cover image (Courtesy: Black Inc)

The most powerful presence
is absence
(from “Egypt”)

The above lines open Australian poet Dorothy Porter‘s The bee hut, a collection of poems mostly writen in the last five years of her life. The lines are prophetic … and they appropriately open a collection which deals very much, though not exclusively, with the tension between life and death. The poems are, in turn, angry, resigned, beautiful, humorous even, and philosophical. Some draw on Christian and other mythology, some allude to other poets, and some are simply founded in the unembellished here-and-now. And, despite the fact that we and she know that death is coming sooner rather than later, they are life-affirming.

The collection is divided into eight groups:

  • Head of Astarte
  • The enchanted ass
  • Poems: January – August 2004
  • Smelling tigers
  • Jerusalem
  • Africa
  • The freak songs
  • Lucky

The title poem, “The Bee Hut”, is in the “Poems: January – August 2004” group:

But do I love the lesson
of my thralldom
to the sweet dark things
that can do me harm?

In her brief introduction to the collection, novelist Andrea Goldsmith, Porter’s partner, writes that:

The bee hut became a metaphor for these last years of her life … She marvelled at the bees, as she had always marvelled at life, but she was also aware of the danger amid the sweetness and beauty.

Danger in life, the darkness that is found alongside beauty, is the defining paradox of the collection: “In living there is always/the terror/of being stung” (from “Bluebottles”). Not all poems explore this idea but many do.

There is some sort of thematic underpinning to the poem groupings, and there is a strong autobiographical flavour. The “Africa” section, for example, clearly relates to travels in Africa; “Poems: January – August 2004” were written about her time undergoing chemotherapy for the breast cancer that was to kill her; while “The Freak Songs” are “a song cycle written for performance with the music of Jonathan Mills“. These last are older poems, and therefore predate her diagnosis, but are an apt inclusion. They are wild and defiant: “I bite the apple/I lick the fire/I kiss the sweet sweet snake” (from “The Fruits of Original Sin”). But even here there’s recognition that death, in the end, has the upper hand: “You live your life/as if there’s a secure cage/for the clipped wings/you’re planning” (from “The Bluebird of Death”).

Even more than with a short story collection, it is impossible to discuss every poem in a collection – and, to be honest, I would find it hard to do so since while  some spoke to me easily and some I could grasp with a little thought, there are others that elude me, mostly because their allusions are not familiar to me. I am not, for example, an expert on French poets like Rimbaud, Verlaine, Baudelaire, so when she invokes them I can guess at their meaning but am not totally sure I “got” it. Consequently, I’m just mentioning a few of the poems which particularly appealed to me.

Her poem “Blackberries” in “The enchanted ass” deals with the imperative to write poetry and the urgency to get it down, to locate and express the idea:

and your pen slashes ahead
like a pain-hungry prince
hacking through
the bramble’s dragon teeth
to the heart’s most longed for
comatose, but ardently ready
princess.

Most of the poems are like this – strong, vivid and comprised of short active lines. There are quite a few recurrent images – blood, birds, incense. All very concrete and yet all highly evocative as well. I think that’s what I like about most of the poems – they work well on a visceral as well as a philosophical level. You feel them as well as hear them.

Also in “The enchanted ass” are “Three Sonnets”. The first refers to Byron, the second to Woolf and the third to Blake. In the Woolf one, she writes:

Life is so dangerous,
but this morning you can take
the wave
right to the sparkling shore

You can bear knowing
the street will one day dump you.
(from “What a plunge!”)

One day she finally is dumped … and yet, even then, just two-and-a-half weeks before her death she can write:

Something in me
despite everything
can’t believe my luck.
(from “View from 417”)

There are poems here that are a little obscure to me – that I will need to read again with Google at my side to check the allusions – and there are no amazingly new revelations about life and death, but their passion and vigour engaged me from the get-go! I’m glad I’ve finally been introduced to Dorothy Porter.

Dorothy Porter
The beet hut
Melbourne: Black Inc, 2009
146pp.
ISBN: 9781863954464

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13 Comments leave one →
  1. March 17, 2010 12:28 am

    This sounds marvelous. I am always on the lookout for new poetry, new to me at any rate. My library doesn’t have this book but has Akhenaten. Have you read that one or now anything about it?

    • March 17, 2010 12:56 am

      It is pretty marvellous I think – strong and challenging at times but not inaccessible. No, I haven’t read Akhenaten. It is, I think, her first verse novel, and way less known than her second, The monkey’s mask (a noir lesbian detective story), so it’s interesting that your library has the lesser known one. She was clearly interested in Ancient Egypt (among many other things – I gather she read widely, particularly in history) – the opening poem in The bee hut is titled Egypt.

      I rather like reading poetry too … though do it far less than I’d like to. Apparently Porter always had a book of poetry with her while for me it’s usually a novel (plus the crosswords of course!).

  2. March 17, 2010 9:02 pm

    I agree – this sounds wonderful. You can have this one waiting for me when I return and get put on post-surgery chair-rest again. 🙂

    • March 17, 2010 10:51 pm

      Very happy to do so … would love to discuss some of the poems with you. I think you’ll like them.

  3. March 18, 2010 5:32 am

    Gosh, if I’m going to live it, I hope it’s the last poem excerpt you’ve written here!

    • March 18, 2010 7:51 am

      LOL, you might have seen that was atypo – I think I meant LIKE though I may have meant LOVE and so ended up with LIVE. I had corrected it, but not before you got email notification!

      Oh, and I hope so too.

  4. March 18, 2010 7:58 am

    What is this, a blog or one of those change-this-word-to-that-word-via-single-letter-changes games?!

  5. residentjudge permalink
    March 20, 2010 11:16 am

    I liked the parts of the poems you quoted- in fact, many of them were parts that sparked something in my own mind too. I’m finding it hard to talk about the collection as a whole, and I do wonder how much more is added to it by knowing that many of them are written while she was facing death. It’s a narrative that runs alongside the poems, and even someone who was not familiar with her would detect it. There’s a clear-eyed hard looking at things, that for me is heightened by the knowledge of her illness.

    • March 20, 2010 5:37 pm

      Thanks residentjudge! You are right, there is a very clear narrative thread running through most of the poems. I should read more of hers to see how different these are (might be) from her earlier concerns. I enjoyed them a lot I have to say. I suspect knowing her story adds poignancy to our reading but as you say they clear-eyed thinking on the issues can be comprehended whether or not you know her story. Is it “hard” looking? Perhaps it depends on what you mean by “hard”? I see it as strong, as born of some degree of struggle, but also as positive and prepared to confront life full on.

  6. May 3, 2012 9:59 pm

    Oh Mum! Comparing the poems/lines you posted excerpts of here and the ones I noted for myself in my notebook (even the one I just quoted on my blog), we truly *do* have the same favourites from this collection!!

    This gives me such happiness xoxo

    • May 3, 2012 10:24 pm

      Oh good .. and I’m so glad you like the book … it’s a wonderful collection isn’t it?

      • May 3, 2012 10:34 pm

        Oh absolutely! Though it’s interested that some of the section didn’t really speak to me at all, and yet others just pinged straight into my heart.

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