Poetry Shelf review

By Poetry Shelf - Paula Green | Posted:

At the Point of Seeing by Megan Kitching

Poetry Shelf review: At the Point of Seeing by Megan Kitching | NZ Poetry Shelf

Once, when I asked a boy from Hong Kong
what new things he'd seen here,

he answered, 'the moon'.

from 'Dark Skies'

I recently reviewed Giselle Clarkson's dazzling children's book, The Observologist (Gecko Press, 2023) on Poetry Box. I love this book for a universe of reasons, including the vital relationship between observing and writing poetry:

I love the idea of being an observologist – a person who makes tiny scientific expeditions every day. It taps into notions of looking, of slowing down to observe, wonder, take note of. To see and discover the world up close with fresh and fascinated eyes. To be a conservationist. One part of me thinks a poet is an observologist because every day when I write a tiny poem it is like a tiny expedition and as I look and listen I discover surprising things.

Megan Kitching's debut collection, At the Point of Seeing, as the title so aptly suggests, is a book of observation, a handbook on slowing down to see the world. Reading Megan's poetry splinters immunity to the daily view, the window vista, the routine route. Looking becomes poetry and poetry becomes a source of fascination, nuances, wonder. It might be poetry as contemplation, whether reading or writing, and in that contemplation, in that slow and steady homage to the physical world we inhabit, we are returned to its beauty. In this time of unbearable inhumanity, planet selfishness, personal profit, ugly behaviour, At the Point of Seeing, is a reminder of hope.

In 'Volcanic Harbour', the speaker might "sit on a stone and let time work". I become participant as I too find a "stone" to sit on, and let the poetry work along with time. I move from shells in a museum, to pūhā musings, to a rounded hill, the prevailing wind, horses in a paddock, an albatross curving, muslin rain, macrocarpa that "claw the sky".

Megan is deft with words. I am trying to think of a poet who achieves such surprise and wonder on the line. Perhaps Emma Neale, perhaps Bill Manhire, Bernadette Hall. So often the next word is not the expected word, it takes me by surprise and that is reading delight. It might be adjective, verb, image evoked, trope. And that is in itself a performance of the awe of seeing through word selections. The way the albatross arc catches our breath, the crawling bee mesmerises.

A morning rain of muslin, hardly there
except in the pinprick flicker, a thickening
of the air.

from 'Mornington

I also read this sumptuous collection as musical sound track, and again it produces wonder, delight, sonic surprise. It is a sweetly mixed playlist as we move from assonance, to rhyme, near rhyme, alliteration, aural dip and lift and slide. It is writing on the wire. It is scoring the world, it is intricate melody, it is open tuning.

Ah. I am pitching this book to you, when against all odds, poetry is a lifeline, the source of joy, the connecting force, the point of contemplation. We are at the point of seeing, we are at the point of speaking, sharing, hoping, and poetry such as this, poetry as good as this, makes all the difference.

You can hear Megan read here.

In that wavering horizon,
where the merest snap loomed
I found a dull, sedate beauty,
an abundance of swans.

Yes, despite the red fire flush
tipping the succulent wort
and a stilt's elegant flight
the marsh was flat, almost poetry.

from 'The Inlet's Shore'

Megan Kitching was born in Tāmaki Makarau Auckland and now lives in Ōtepoti Dunedin. She holds a PhD in English Literature from Queen Mary University, London, looking at the influence of the natural sciences on eighteenth-century poetry. She has taught English and creative writing in the UK and at the University of Otago. Her poetry has appeared in The Frogmore Papers (UK), takahē, Poetry New Zealand, and Landfall. “The horses,” published in takahē 95, was nominated for Best Small Fictions 2020. In 2021, she was the inaugural Caselberg Trust Elizabeth Brooke-Carr Emerging Writer Resident. At the Point of Seeing is her debut collection.