Tag: Basudhara Roy

Review by Basudhara Roy

Title: Greening the Earth: A Global Anthology of Poetry

Editors: K. Satchidanandan and Nishi Chawla

Publisher: Penguin Random House

At a time when apocalyptic unease about the precarity of our home on this planet grips us as a civilisation and is concomitantly coupled with the irremediable apathy that governs our everyday mundanity, a collection of poems on the subject by some of the finest poets from around the world writing in our times, is both an existential alarm of urgency and a spiritual balm that soothes our despondency enough to spur us to action. Greening the Earth: A Global Anthology of Poetry edited by K. Satchidanandan and Nishi Chawla, and recently brought out by Penguin Random House is, as its editors point out, an act of “responsible activism”.

A tonal sequel to Singing in the Dark, their first co-edited anthology of poems around the pandemic which had already foregrounded nature’s clear vengeance against human greed, this collection attempts to grapple with the more sinister and nemetic darkness of environmental crises by establishing a dialogic space for the affirmation of ecological citizenry through poetry and “the articulation of a new aesthetic of survival”.

Poetry has, always and undeniably, been at the forefront of every revolution and the reasons for this are not hard to seek. Out of the circuit of formal epistemology, poetry has mostly been free to encode and perform alternative knowledges. The language of poetry, being generically unanswerable to established patterns of syntax and semantics, has been, historically, at liberty to pursue and present its own ensemble of meaning. Again, just as poetry, dispensing with literacy and formal training, has offered little resistance or discouragement to potential creators, it has also always been widely accessible to the general public owing to its capacity for oral dissemination and circulation in minor media such as notes, letters, greeting cards, placards and advertisements.

But poetry’s chief merit, most significantly, lies in its ability to accomplish a multifaceted and compound expression encompassing reality and possibility, facticity and vision, statistics and emotions. To declare in editorial essays or news reports that the world is coming to an end is one thing, to express its consequences in poetry is something else. Ecological poetry or ecopoetry has been on the scene for a considerable period of time now. An extension or intensification of the genre of nature poetry, ecological poetry evinces a keen political and activist consciousness geared to fight back the environmental crisis through determined human effort. Integrating perspective, observation, information, emotion, vision and testimony, ecopoetry attempts to establish a deeply personal relationship between man and nature underlining, thereby, their indispensability to each other’s survival.

Greening the Earth with its staggering set of around a hundred and eighty-five poets and poems from across the world, offers us an essentially global anthem of hope. The planet cannot be greened by afforestation alone. Greening the planet requires a systemic reconstruction of our relationship with it that envisages love, responsibility and sustainability. It is a recognition of  nature’s intrinsic worth beyond her instrumental value and the fierce acknowledgement of the inextricability of the two.

A walk through the anthology is an immensely moving and personal tour through innumerable poetic moods and ecotopes, our teeming biodiversity, and our shared vulnerability as inhabitants of the cosmos. At the heart of each of these astonishingly diverse and beautiful poems is a sense of kinship to a wider and infinitely unknown world, an awareness of the mutability of life-forms within the unmapped continuity of time, a strong condemnation of human selfishness and myopia, and a more-than strong suspicion of the imminent end of humanity.

At the same time, here is also the urgent and extraordinary tenderness that arrives only with the knowledge of transience and the prophecy of loss. If life and the world are to be lost to us as a species, there will never be time enough to dwell on all that we love. Each of these poems is, therefore, also about love – love not merely for the natural world but for every little thing that holds up our lives and which we have been taught to discount as inessential or marginal in our daily drive to build a living.

Greening the Earth, thus, advocates a different ontological ethics – one that calls for wide inclusiveness, greater mindfulness, minute attention, and an adjustment to the flow of time around us instead of attempting to govern this flow. It embodies an intense desire to reverse the cycle of alienated technological growth and to revert to an era of deep feeling and conscious interconnectedness. Here is joy, agony, grief, fear, beauty, despair, isolation, and community but most significantly, here is the possibility of building both ourselves and the world anew through searching self-analysis.

In ‘Signs and Wonders’, Paul Hoover sketches a barren civilization which can be revived only when “a child will write them back into existence,/one branch at a time”. Toi Derricotte’s ‘Unburying the Bird’, similarly, is a deeply moving poem about bird deaths “because of too much/ something” and yet, the poem’s onus is on resurrection rather than on accusation:

Feed her from the tip of your finger.
Teach her the cup of your hand.
You breathe on her.
One day,
you open up your hand
and show her sky.

The recognition of the human as one insignificant dot within the immensity of the universe marks many of these poems. Sarah Key’s ‘Ode to the Scarce Yellow Sally Stonefly’ is one among several poems where humans are treated as textual equals with other species. The poem pays tribute to a critically endangered variety of the stonefly that was rediscovered in the United Kingdom after a period of twenty-two years owing to the efforts of conservation biologists like John Davy-Bowker. After eight stanzas of describing the stonefly, its disappearance, and its rediscovery, the poem in its final stanza, deftly but unassumingly, turns to the larger and logical picture – the extinction of homo sapiens from the planet:

Tell me, flighty friends, will there be
A Mr. Davy-Bowker for me?
Will some AI god come along, algorithm my scent,
go where my species has gone?

Rochelle Potkar’s ‘Confluence’ raises concern regarding the legal personhood and rights of our natural environment. Embodying the spirit of the ‘Rights of Nature’ movement that believes in the right of every ecosystem to flourish without victimisation by humans, the poem makes a strong case for the rights of water bodies which are relentlessly drained, contaminated, and exploited by human activities, its opening line being highly potent in its irony:

Waters when they evaporate, meet…
at a global conference, to speak of fish dropouts,
obscura of clouds, near-deaths, hydrological dynamics,
monocultures, and metals:
nickel, lead, chromium, at their beds.

The constant awareness of despair and inertia runs in a large number of poems as in Michael Cope’s ‘We Watch the Signs’ where the awareness of danger leads to numbness rather than action, the first and third lines of this first stanza being a constant refrain throughout the poem:

We watch the signs in numbness and regret.
Midwinter summer, chaos in the year,
And still our money’s on the outside bet.

David Ebenbach’s ‘Viaduct Greene’ eloquently traces the possibilities of companionship in a posthuman world – a date through “this expanse of soda bottles and human waste” when “a subway dies and you make it a garden.” In Meg Eden’s ‘Scene of a Dismantled Village outside Pripyat’, “The forest has become/ a radioactive living room.” Humans are absent from this scene altogether, their “heirloom china,/ covering the forest floor!” Animals have taken over:

Inside one cup, a chipmunk
makes its home. Inside another,
a spider breeds. Soon, her eggs
will hatch and from where
there was one body, there will be
thousands. Think about that –
something still lives after all of this. 

‘Lakeside Walks’ by Arvind Krishna Mehrotra is, entirely, an exercise in mindful perception, the poetic consciousness establishing itself as intimately one with its immediate environment. Here rain, squirrel, friend, four-lane highway, letter, piebald cow, pinwheel flower, poem, face mask, mynah and park bench are all emotive equals drawing the poet’s attention “aimlessly, which is the same as purposefully”, articulating thereby an intense ecopoetic vision of connection and harmony. 

What makes the book a trifle inconvenient to handle is the absence of a table of contents so that attempting to look up a specific poem in this anthology becomes entirely a matter of labour, memory, and chance. Its Preface, however, constitutes a comprehensive and well-researched essay on ecological consciousness in literature and will be an appreciable resource for readers in general and those with special interest in ecocriticism. What is also valuable about this anthology is its inclusion of poems in translation from a wide variety of global languages.

With a memorable green cover showcasing an opulent spread of maple leaves, here is a body of poems intended to woo us to an earth-centric view of life and the world, and as Rainer Maria Gassen writes here in his poem ‘To Nature – Three Sonnets’, “should this poem fail to win you over/ there’ll be hundreds if not thousands more of them.”

Basudhara Roy teaches English at Karim City College affiliated to Kolhan University, Chaibasa. Author of three collections of poems, her latest work has been featured in EPW, The Pine Cone Review, Live Wire, Lucy Writers Platform, Setu and The Aleph Review among others. 

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles

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