John Mateer. Southern Barbarians.
Shook, David
John Mateer. Southern Barbarians. Sydney, Australia. Giramondo.
2011.95 pages. Aus$24. ISBN 978-1-920882-58-7
--. The West: Australian Poems 1989-2009. Fremantle, Australia.
Fremantle Press (IPG, distr.). 2010. 152 pages. $24.95. ISBN
978-1-921361-86-9
[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]
John Mateer represents the most recent reincarnation of the
international poet, a post-expat literary explorer, perpetual student,
and cultural chameleon (see WLT, Sept. 2011, 24). Born in South Africa,
raised there and in Canada, and basing himself out of Australia since
OE989, when he turned eighteen years old, Mateer has traveled and
published worldwide, and these two books continue his pattern of
aesthetic exploration framed within the sociocultural landscapes of his
travel.
Southern Barbarians offers an alternate history of the expansion
of the Portuguese empire through Africa, America, Asia, and Australia.
The Portuguese were nicknamed "southern barbarians" by the
Japanese, and their colonial exploits were characterized by their
saudade, the traditionally untranslatable variety of melancholy longing
they claim. Mateer channels Pessoa from his epigraph ("I write to
forget") forward, in his sections "Saudades, The Humanism of
Friends," which catalogs friends by name, and in the
collection's other five sections. Mateer's poems contain a
powerful tandem of intrinsic questioning and relentless curiosity. The
former is succinctly exemplified in the last line of his poem "On
the Train from Cascais to Lisbon': "Where am I? or, being the
poet, Who am I?" He readily incorporates historical detail and bits
of Portuguese language in a literary cannibalism reminiscent of the
contemporary literary traditions of Portugal's former colonies.
In the hands of a lesser poet, these poems could easily end in
simple barbarianism--in exploitation or agenda-driven drivel--but Mateer
is consummately graceful, that rare foreigner capable of a multilateral
empathy, a barbarian in, as Brian Castro writes in his introduction, the
word's etymological sense: "one whose language denotes a
different mode of speech." He's a medium for the voices of the
"perfect nobodies" he praises in poems like "Translators
are Angels," "Fadista," and "The
Honey-Gatherer."
The West collects twenty years of Mateer's Australian
poems--work that directly engages with the poet's chosen home, and
especially with its western region. The collection, like Southern
Barbarians, exemplifies Mateer's signature perspective, which
Martin Harrison calls "regional only as a question of conscious
choice, conscious perception." The West is an ideal companion to
Southern Barbarians, similar in tone and mode, whether its narrator is
reading at the doctor's office ("The Message"), observing
alleyway drug deals ("The Drug Scene"), or attending festival
readings by aboriginal writers ("To Jack Davis").
Again and again, Mateer transcends categorization; but his
work's brilliance extends beyond that resistance, with a
fine-tuned, pensive lyricism capable of distilling his curiosity into
more than mere probing, and his probing into more than mere intellectual
exercise, as in this excerpt from his "Argument" with a
lizard, from The West: "Could still have been thinking / our
language, my being, is like / a legless lizard, word appendages /
defunct in this new terrain, / when on the promontory a metre-long /
goanna stopped me. ... // Its snake-face opened jaws to silence. // I am
being told something."
In Mateer's work, so are his readers.
David Shook
Los Angeles