Review: The Disappearing Room, by Mara Bergman
David Mark Williams, Envoi, No. 183, October 2019
[...]
Her [Mara Bergman's] approach is very subtle and at times might provoke a response that perceives what she writes as prose. Certainly that was true for me at first as I struggled to connect with some of the poems. But after a while the true value contained within the writing was released for me and I began to hear the poems clearly. What is required from the reader is to listen very carefully to the underlying cadences Bergman expertly creates and which become more and more evident with each re-reading and finally hypnotic and spell binding.
An example of a poem that is firmly embedded in prose is 'East 13th Street or How I Met My Husband'. It would definitely raise the hackles of traditionalists because of its chatty tone, beginning with these lines:
If Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Seymour had moved
out of their two-bedroom apartment with my four cousins
as planned, I never would have met Susan Silver
However, what grounds the poem is the accumulation of such detail into an affirmative climax. Its value has been recognised through being awarded a Troubadour prize. While it is not the strongest poem in the collection, it has a function within the architecture of the book as a whole, along with other poems of a lower lyrical intensity, grounding the more sublime poems with a foundation.
Apart from the tonal qualities of her work, Bergman also exhibits a skill with visual imagery. Ekphrastic responses occur throughout the collection, particularly in a suite of six adroit poems concerning the generic figure of a photographer. There is also a brilliantly realised poem in homage to the painter, Edward Hopper, which fully captures the mood of Hopper's paintings:
Maybe he wasn't so far from his life,
maybe it was here he stopped questioning
what he was doing amid the snowlight
and a pale orange glow
over the telephone wire, heat steaming.
As a corollary to this focus, the trope of light is recurrent, and often occurs as a structural device:
As if you could take a patch of light
and place it on Water-spotlightof moonlight, rippling lagoon-light
The sense of a poet who paints with words is made explicit in the dazzling poem which closes the collection, 'Painting England', which works like an Impressionist painting and ends with these lines:
And people are out walking in the sun
this August morning, boats mere dots and this
meandering river. Notes are drifting in the air —
someone in the distance is laughing, and again
I am love struck, just as in the beginning.
From the evidence of The Disappearing Room, Mara Bergman is a lyrical poet with considerable gifts, a poet who deserves an ever widening readership.