Question & Response with James Mesiti
Arteidolia
March 2024
Question 1:
Your new collection of poetry, petal / transport, has just been released by Arteidolia Press. Can you tell us more about what’s behind this title and your use of the strikethrough, which is especially eye catching.
Response 1:
It is a difficult question to which, perhaps intentionally if not subconsciously, I may not have an answer that would be able to fully respond. However, by means of the visual tension they invoke, the strikethrough together with the dash separating the words “petal” and “transport” bring for a closer look one of language ́s basic functions — to assign and give meaning. They question what are the consequences when language can no longer fulfill this role and is forced to live and make do within its limits. In this manner, this play of the title is almost a visual symptom of a perhaps sickly language in the pages that follow.
Question 2:
Crisscrossing multiple boundaries. Unwrapping and navigating through the surfaces / locations of words. In the first section, becoming clay, some poems almost feel like notes to yourself, or maybe like letters to a stranger, or just a play on possibilities. Or, could there be something else animating these sequences?
Response 2:
“Animating” and “sequences” are a really fascinating way to approach many of the compositions in the first part becoming clay. I had not necessarily thought of them before as attempts to animate or manifestations of animation, but I think it is a completely accurate and provocative lens by which to view them. One of the main mechanisms operating in the background of these texts is the struggle to suppress the “I”, but also let the “I” be and roam. The distorted and pseudo-journal format of this section with its almost cadence-riddled farewells may be evidence of that. There is dialogue here, however, not necessarily between two or more easily identifiable speakers or participants. becoming clay is nearly a struggle to see if words can speak for, to, and with themselves, or if they are always going to suffer mediation by us, the writers, speakers, people…
Question 3:
“To see if words can speak for, to, and with themselves.” I”m still digesting that. It’s like seeing words as free roaming entities, to reach beyond their physical presence and gravitate towards unexpected surprises. To “let the ‘I’ be on the roam” and see what can happen as one moves throughout each page. It’s like witnessing the nocturnal dreams of language itself. In the second section, a tongue stripped down to its ash visual prompts and layout variations appear that can spark, trigger other modes of interactions. Nothing is forced. Nothing is final. I’m curious about how petal / transport evolved, its roots, how it came to be.
Response 3:
That’s a tricky question. It can often be difficult to take a step back and try to fully understand what went into a creation, but what I can say is that this book is the product of many obsessions that slowly merged into one. I have always had a different relationship with language and poetry, specifically. I started studying it first in Spanish, believe it or not, as a non-native speaker who was amazed at how the poetic word seemed to dance in a language that was not my own. Naturally, I soon began to write in Spanish — albeit very haphazardly — to try to understand what it was all about. Years later, and now through my research as a PhD student in Spanish, I am constantly returning to these first astonishments that led me to start writing and that now blend with my creative work. In fact, many of the primary operational expressions or mechanisms in this book were first conceived in Spanish, but they found their home here. They needed something different in order to be able to manifest themselves and grow; they needed petal / transport.
But, the story of this book’s origins would not be complete without writer Jay Kirk, who encouraged and taught me to approach writing through not only experience but also research. With his guidance, I began experimenting under the lens of experience. For example, there were two weeks when I would set an alarm for 2am in the morning, wake up, and then write whatever came to my mind amidst my dreamy haze. The next day I would return to what I had written and give it structure and fluidity. Some of those writings can be found in this text and perhaps are easily identifiable.
Question 4:
Yes, when you look inside language and beyond the limits of what words denote, and listen to how their sounds travel, how they interact with each other, their rhythms, their breaths, something else can happen, something more than their assigned meanings, but another layer of how what seems invisible can become present. Is there something in particular about Spanish that still accompanies you while you engage poetics in English? And, I got the role of “transport” in the title, but what about “petal”?
Response 4:
I think what my contact with Spanish does is constantly push me to question what I spoke about before. To what extent are words vehicles for what we feel or think, and when do they, if ever, gain their own autonomy and behave on their own? Many multilingual speakers can sympathize with the feeling that there are certain sensations that can be better articulated in one language than in another. I always wonder, why is that? Beyond the problems that translation can present, what is behind a specific tongue that makes it better suited for a particular affect?
As absurd as it may sound, I am constantly striving to learn from words and hope that in my poetics they guide me to finding their appropriate expression. Language choice has a lot to do with that. It is almost an ethical concern for me that we, those of us who decide to write and call ourselves artists, writers, poets, novelists, playwrights, etc., are obligated to uphold and respect.
So, what may be partially understood from “transport” and “petal” could be precisely this dilemma. When do words stop merely transporting and pass the divide to becoming petal? Or to meaningful beings in and of themselves?
Question 5:
So well said. I love the visualization of words petaling. I’m interested in hearing about your research of transatlantic poetry and its links to other art forms. And of course, are you working on another collection of poetry?
Response 5:
Much of my research has to do with the instances in poetry when the poem itself stops trying to tell or narrate something and enters a more perceptive space that is often sensorial. We can find these in other art forms as well, for example in film when the narration seems to temporarily suspend, think of a chase scene whose duration is longer than necessary. I call these moments “poetic turns”.
I do have another collection that magnifies the visual character of petal / transport. It is still in its early stages, but is shaping to be a provocative hybrid work. I am excited to see where it leads me.
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