Lady Deathstrike
with body modification
all flesh become sheath
skin enrobed
widen to skeletal gauge
labial tissue stretched
a bat’s veiny wing
you give every metal detector
a fat dermal punch
laced with adamantium
exhale god’s wind
breath a typhoon
taut body torpedo
blood boiling jet fuel
each tip thrums fuse
For her second trade poetry collection,
Calgary-turned-Toronto poet Natalie Zina Walschots give us Doom: Love Poems for Supervillains (Toronto ON: Insomniac Press, 2012), produced with
illustrations by the illustrious Evan Munday, wisely published in the midst of
a season of Big Summer Blockbusters in American film. It’s been said by actors
over the years that it’s far more interesting to play a villain than a good guy
(is this why Walschots wrote poems for supervillains as opposed to a collection
of poems for superheroes?), and, for comic book fans, we owe quite a debt to John Byrne, who brought depth and dimension to Doctor Victor von Doom during his lengthy run on The Fantastic Four in the 1980s.
What is it about supervillains? One could say
that a book of poetry on comic book characters, especially by a woman writer,
is quite subversive, but perhaps not in the same way it would have been, say, a
decade or two ago (I’d say I know as many female as male comic
nerds/geeks/enthusiasts these days). Subversive less so as well, given how
mainstream the big company comic books have become over the past twenty years,
especially in mainstream American film (Paul Davies did a lovely ECW Press title a number of years ago on the 1960s Marvel Universe I’d recommend, if you can find it).
In her poetry collections so far, from Thumbscrews (Montreal Q: Snare Books, 2007) to this current book, Walschots
composes from a combination of concept and content, writing poems that explore
a particular subject or idea, with this one focusing on an array of past and
present supervillains from Marvel Comics and DC Comics. Not that all on her
list are even currently considered supervillains (but have all been throughout
their histories), which even draw on their complexities, as, for example,
Magneto and Toad are now with the X-Men, Deadpool currently works with the
X-Men wetworks team, X-Force, and Quicksilver teaches at Avengers
Academy. Still, most villains are never straightforward, and the best of them
are those who ride nuance, complexity and even contradiction (Magneto being a
fantastic example). And Walschots’ subject-work follows in the tradition of a number of
recent book-length works of poetry writing from seemingly-unlikely sources,
including Alessandro Porco’s porn-poems, The Jill Kelly Poems (Toronto ON: ECW
Press, 2005), Lisa Robertson’s use of the scientific language of weather in The Weather (Vancouver BC: New Star
Books, 2001), Michael Holmes’ poems on professional wrestling in Parts Unknown (Toronto ON: Insomniac
Press, 2004), Rachel Zolf exploring the dehumanizing language of office-speak
in Human Resources (Toronto ON: Coach
House Books, 2007) or M. NourbeSe Philip writing out legal language to humanize
an inhuman story in Zong! (Toronto ON: The Mercury Press, 2008). And,
given what is happening throughout the X-Men/Avengers titles currently, her
poem on the late, lamented Dark Phoenix might even be timely:
Dark Phoenix
frail cipher
white dwarf burnt out to a cinder
a chain reaction relit your core
our friend has gone nova
reborn a firebird
red and luminous
gobbling light
a single eyelash
could light this cathedral
wreathed in lava
gold and pearl gone molten
a wretched and crawling heat
a rosary rendered down to ruined stars
your universe is expanding, my friend
neither Kepler nor Brahe
could bring you back to us now
I light these standard candles
cry beeswax
mouth your luminous name
Walschots composes
poems set as sketches, or quick character studies, writing poems on many names
both big and small, including Doctor Doom, the Joker, Lex Luthor, Magneto,
Electra, Lady Deathstrike, Ra’s al Ghul, Doctor Octopus, Bullseye, the Green
Goblin, Deadpool, Sinestro, General Zod, Clayface, Harley Quinn and Dark
Phoenix, as well as sections on various comic book geographies. The book is
sectioned into five, from “Rogues Gallery: Domination” (male villains),
“Stronghold” (countries and other similar locations), “Rogues Gallery: Girl
Fight” (female villains), “Bondage” (prisons and other similar locations) and
“Rogues Gallery: Destruction” (darker male villains). Her two poems for Joker
play against the two sides of his character, from the predominant view of the
character over the decades, to the much darker view presented in the infamous
graphic novel, The Killing Joke, and the terrible, terrible things he
did to Batgirl/Barbara Gordon that left her confined to a wheelchair.
Joker
The Killing Joke
cleverness a cleaver
slit tine grin
in the serrated rape
trap teeth squeak maestro
voice box a soup can
sinew strung rung
to rung with vertebrae
crackling in the gruesome
toymaker’s cheek
smile navel to nose
uncoils fat lips
and drools
steaming tongue
this body made mouth
Throughout the collection, Walschots leaves me
with a number of questions. Is the Atlantis the DC or Marvel version, and why
is the “General Zod” seemingly for the version portrayed in Superman 2
as opposed to the comics (unlike the version from Smallville, which
seemed reduced than previous incarnations). These poems really do feel like
sketches, as she writes in the last part of the poem “Deadpool”:
deep within the viscera
you laugh to scratch
your mirth is subcision
bloody and precise
Sharp as hell, but her Deadpool poem (ignore the
version from the X-Men Origins: Wolverine film) somehow doesn’t capture
the characters precise and outlandish madness. And I wonder, with two poems for
Mastermind and but one for Mr. Sinister, is she giving the former too much
credit, and the latter, not enough? Still, this is a fun and precise
exploration of characters through poems, and a worthy collection. The only
disappointment is knowing that there are so many more illustrations Munday did
for the collection than appear in the final book. Whatever became of them?
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