Sharpening up the literary quills

Press, 27 July 1985, Page 20

Sharpening up the literary quills

Landfall 153. Caxton Press, March 1985. 124 pp. $6. Islands 35. April, 1985. 80 pp. $lO. (Reviewed by Tom Weston) To read “Islands 35” would be to think all is well in the state of Denmark, that friends are friends, and appearances do not deceive. A read of “Landfall 153,” by comparison, would soon disabuse the innocent reader of that notion. What is it that has so prickled “Landfall”? Who is this Leigh Davis character (mentioned some three or four times), and what is “And” magazine? What sort of furore is afoot out there in Literary Land? The answer, of sorts, depends on your point of view. Essentially put, Leigh Davis and Alex Calder, coeditors of the Auckland-based “And,” have launched an all-out assault on the literary establishment. In their several forays to date they must have drawn blood, for “Landfall,” a principal target, has now retaliated. On the other hand, “Islands,” also a target, quietly pushes on ignoring the ruckus. In tenor, issue 35 reads little differently from earlier issues.

What of the two approaches? “Islands,” while adopting the safer course, might now be running the risk of redundancy. On the credit side, however, there can be none of the accusations of knee-jerk reaction that might be levelled at “Landfall.” Hugh Lauder, acting editor of that magazine, has squarely accepted “And’s” challenge and joined battle. Unfortunately he has made the mistake of fighting it out (to strain this particular metaphor further) on ground chosen by the opposition: that' of intellectual analysis. And by and large, he is less than successful. Leigh Davis; a masterful tactician (whether or not you accept his poetics), has gained yet another platform — and in a venue he could have hardly anticipated. A strange situation indeed. Hugh Lauder promises a more sustained argument in a future issue of “Landfall” and this is awaited with interest. In the meantime, it might have been wiser to avoid the overly didactic conclusions already derived. For the editorial’s rejoinder to “And” consists of widely scattered shots and noticeable lacunae. Hugh Lauder might have the material elsewhere, but here his analysis is not compelling. To assert that “And” is both poststructuralist . and post-modernist (though all categories are eventually self-serving) ignores the fundamental difference between these two labels. As I understand it, “And” is not postmodernist. Its concerns are languagebased (particularly a written language), and it studies the system of signs that makes up that language. It is not involved in the more “oral” poetry of Williams or Olson, who are commonly thought of as postmodernist in this country. To a large extent, Eliot’s inquiry into the divided sensibility (emotion as against intellect) is irrelevant to poststructuralist writers. For “Landfall” to then accuse “And” of being “petit bourgeois” (unnecessary mud-slinging at that) is to ignore the complex politics involved. Hugh Lauder concludes that a pluralist approach (i.e. covering the whole field) is the direction that “Landfall” must take. This he justifies with the vague, “at this stage in its

history New Zealand needs a variety of modes of writing and reading to satisfy a heterogeneous reading public.” Such an assertion is meaningless, unsubstantiated, and precisely what “And” so much objects to. At this point, pluralism becomes just as relativistic as the polemic it seeks to criticise. That aside, I far prefer “Landfall 153” to its immediate predecessors. Not only does it provide an editorial that says something substantial, but it contains several articles that cannot be ignored. In particular, I enjoy Hugh Lauder’s decision to invite a review from Alex Calder. The ensuing piece is as amusing and perceptive a review as you could hope for. A focal point of this issue of “Landfall” is the article written by Lauder and Jonathon Smart, “Ideology and Political Art in New Zealand: a Radical View.” Although not as radical as its title might suggest, the article clearly aims to provoke. The twin poles of the argument (Socialism and Capitalism) are used to locate what is designated as the “New Jerusalem” myth. The authors conclude that few, if any, artists have come to grips with anything more fundamental than whether or not this vision has succeeded. They then postulate a mix of Socialism and the direction taken by Keri Hulme (in her novel “The Bone People”) as one answer. The question of course, is this new myth just as misleading as the old? Interestingly, Hulme’s work is also at the conclusion of the one critical article in “Islands.” Michael Neill looks at what he calls “the post-colonial novel” in the context of the two Penguin New Zealand poetry anthologies (1960 and 1985). “The Bone People” tentatively holds out what he calls a “genuine home-coming for all the people of this country.” He comes back to earth, however, with the same caveat expressed above — even this myth might eventually sour. Kfri Hulme must be wondering what has hit her. So there you have it, all over for another three months. “Landfall” is up and fighting, and it is good to see. “Islands” serenely sails on. We will have to wait and see what happens. Same channel, same time ...