Capsule Review and Poem: Lyrical Ballads, by Bill Manhire

Bill Manhire CNZM, New Zealand's inaugural poet laureate, lets creativity loose in his first book in six years, LYRICAL BALLADS. Much like Wordsworths and Coleridge's 1798 collection of the same name, witty, intelligent, but never pretentious, Lyrical Ballads is easily accessible, while also having the depth to satisfy longtime fans. A narrative thread through the collection invites the reader to discover the thematic links between the poems. 

The book’s broken into five numbered sections, with two sole titled chapters that provide a grounding. ‘The Tobacco Tin’, described by Manhire as ‘a kind of folk story riding along on its own lacunae,’ welcomes the reader into Manhire’s world, using whimsy. From floating through childhood memories, prank calling Nana in ‘That Might Be Alexander’ to ‘Daffodil Paddock’, a girl who just wants to be in a Margaret Mahy story, Manhire brings a sense of youthful nostalgia to the reader.

If ‘The Tobacco Tin’ nods to youth, then the second titled chapter, ‘Tell You What’, feels like an acknowledgement of aging. There are some tongue in cheek pieces, as in ‘Geography’ ‘Eons ago our earth was flat. Literally and actually flat. That’s why these days, years after the planet grew geologically round, a few people still hold to the old belief. All those big brains in the universities, historians and so on, and they can’t even begin to see it.’ Well crafted, these pieces never feel like an attack but rather a gentle ribbing of the general populace. 

Outside of the two titled chapters, Manhire isn’t afraid to divert from humor for a moment to discuss darker topics that affect us daily. The poem ‘Lyrical Ballad’ portrays the sad realities of climate change that feel especially timely after the recent climate events: ‘Now it’s just a patch of land: a channel and some structural damage. I suppose I should sell it, but I can’t quite make myself. It was everything I ever wanted.’ But it is ‘Gaza’, haunting in its description of a young boy killed in a genocide that has been, and continues to be, ignored by the world, that is a harrowing reminder staying with me long after finishing the collection. ‘His parents held him while he died / but they are both dead, too. / Or he held them, no one remembers.’ 

Observing through his experienced eye, Manhire has written a clever collection that may not always satisfy with a clear thematic link, but is still full of engaging poetry that will keep his audience reading. 

Breakneck Speed

They say that’s what he was going at.

Not much use to the rest of us

back here still trying to measure the distance

between a boy and a body.