a liminal gathering:
Elixir & Star Grief Almanac 2023
Iona Winter, editor
How do I mourn thee? Let me count the ways ... but that’s impossible. There are so many ways. The experience of grief is close to endless, as the selections included in this book, and the spirit behind it, make painfully clear. This book is the first of a projected almanac series, from a company established to make up for New Zealand’s lack of a publisher who focuses on grief and who provides opportunity for the written exploration of levels and styles of grief.
Editor Iona Winter explains: “Elixir & Star Press (ESP*) was created as a side project, in memory of my tama Reuben Winter who took his life in 2020 during the pandemic.
“All expressions of grief were welcomed during our submissions window, since grief by its very essence is a universal experience. a liminal gathering celebrates the destigmatisation of grief, by making it relatable through multiple creative lenses, and to normalise the expression of grief. This book seeks to provide comfort, and act as a taonga to be shared between loving hands, during difficult times.”
The 103 contributions are mainly written work, poetry and prose by all definitions, but also black-and-white photographs, some of visual and textile art either made for this publication or previously created around aspects of grief, and an online playlist
https://elixirstarpress.bandcamp.com/album/esp-mp3-volume-1
The writing styles include rhymed couplets, a series of quatrains, and ‘after Peter, a pair of pantoums’ by Ila Selwyn, the latter showing how a repetitive structure is an additional way of expressing grief by the form of the poem, not just by the meaning of individual words. And other poems are unashamedly prose: letters to a loved one, typographical changes or changes in margin showing changes in emphasis ... as many writing styles as there are objects of grief.
The various poems cover many aspects of grief, not only the initial gut misery of pure loss. Some use images to convey their message; others can’t be bothered with even that level of distance. Some illustrate how the world has forever changed.
And we are reminded that grief can carry a double burden, of ensuring that memory of someone or something continues in general and in public and is not consigned only to individual private grief. Anne Powell’s ‘Moments’ reminds us:
In moments of loss and pain
sit quietly among green of fern
and remember
all
is cyclical.
We must also tread carefully – a full-on approach may not be to everyone’s needs. An encounter with grief from all possible angles is a powerful experience, and not necessarily welcome or useful. Some poems temper misery with acceptance (or at least an awareness of the possibility), for example, Blake Leitch’s ‘Scar Tissue’ (quoted in full):
We harvested the squash,
The fish are being fed,
and the plants are being watered,
and everything is ticking along
as everything should.
Everything is ticking along
as you would have seen fit.
I won’t make a martyr of you;
I won’t turn you – a human
capable of the breadth of humanity –
into inspiration fluff; and
I won’t say goodbye because I can’t;
but I’ll let you know that
we harvested the squash,
and you can rest easy
in your eddy of stardust.
It’s really not possible to generalise about this book, about either its forms or its contents. As the editor points out, it is the first in a new venture. We wholeheartedly offer best wishes that the book and others like it to come will provide at least an outlet for grief if not a relief from it, as well as providing a record of the range of feelings surrounding something which we all, sooner or later, find out about the hard way.
Elixir & Star Grief Almanac 2023
Iona Winter, editor
How do I mourn thee? Let me count the ways ... but that’s impossible. There are so many ways. The experience of grief is close to endless, as the selections included in this book, and the spirit behind it, make painfully clear. This book is the first of a projected almanac series, from a company established to make up for New Zealand’s lack of a publisher who focuses on grief and who provides opportunity for the written exploration of levels and styles of grief.
Editor Iona Winter explains: “Elixir & Star Press (ESP*) was created as a side project, in memory of my tama Reuben Winter who took his life in 2020 during the pandemic.
“All expressions of grief were welcomed during our submissions window, since grief by its very essence is a universal experience. a liminal gathering celebrates the destigmatisation of grief, by making it relatable through multiple creative lenses, and to normalise the expression of grief. This book seeks to provide comfort, and act as a taonga to be shared between loving hands, during difficult times.”
The 103 contributions are mainly written work, poetry and prose by all definitions, but also black-and-white photographs, some of visual and textile art either made for this publication or previously created around aspects of grief, and an online playlist
https://elixirstarpress.bandcamp.com/album/esp-mp3-volume-1
The writing styles include rhymed couplets, a series of quatrains, and ‘after Peter, a pair of pantoums’ by Ila Selwyn, the latter showing how a repetitive structure is an additional way of expressing grief by the form of the poem, not just by the meaning of individual words. And other poems are unashamedly prose: letters to a loved one, typographical changes or changes in margin showing changes in emphasis ... as many writing styles as there are objects of grief.
The various poems cover many aspects of grief, not only the initial gut misery of pure loss. Some use images to convey their message; others can’t be bothered with even that level of distance. Some illustrate how the world has forever changed.
And we are reminded that grief can carry a double burden, of ensuring that memory of someone or something continues in general and in public and is not consigned only to individual private grief. Anne Powell’s ‘Moments’ reminds us:
In moments of loss and pain
sit quietly among green of fern
and remember
all
is cyclical.
We must also tread carefully – a full-on approach may not be to everyone’s needs. An encounter with grief from all possible angles is a powerful experience, and not necessarily welcome or useful. Some poems temper misery with acceptance (or at least an awareness of the possibility), for example, Blake Leitch’s ‘Scar Tissue’ (quoted in full):
We harvested the squash,
The fish are being fed,
and the plants are being watered,
and everything is ticking along
as everything should.
Everything is ticking along
as you would have seen fit.
I won’t make a martyr of you;
I won’t turn you – a human
capable of the breadth of humanity –
into inspiration fluff; and
I won’t say goodbye because I can’t;
but I’ll let you know that
we harvested the squash,
and you can rest easy
in your eddy of stardust.
It’s really not possible to generalise about this book, about either its forms or its contents. As the editor points out, it is the first in a new venture. We wholeheartedly offer best wishes that the book and others like it to come will provide at least an outlet for grief if not a relief from it, as well as providing a record of the range of feelings surrounding something which we all, sooner or later, find out about the hard way.
Review by Mary Cresswell
Title: a liminal gathering: Elixir & Star Grief Almanac 2023
Editor: Iona Winter
Publisher: Elixir & Star Press
ISBN: 978-0-473-68917-9
RRP: $32.99
Available: print format only, from Elixir & Star Press [email protected], UBS Otago, The Women's Bookshop, Unity Books Wellington, Piggery Books (Northland) and Books & Co (Ōtaki)
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