Showing posts with label Jake Syersak. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jake Syersak. Show all posts

Monday, June 29, 2020

Black Lives Matter : above/ground press chapbook give-away,

I thought it would be interesting to select a handful of titles from the above/ground press backlist for a Black Lives Matter chapbook giveaway, as a way to use our resources to provide our support in tangible ways (we have also donated monies, as we’ve been able), and to help further amplify the work of some writers of colour the press has produced over the years. So, read up on resources to donate to in the link: https://linktr.ee/NationalResourcesList (thanks to Khashayar Mohammadi for providing the original link); and, after donating (no proof required) $5 or more, I’ll send you a chapbook of your choice from the list below; if you donate $25 or more, I’ll send you a handful of titles, if you wish.

Poetry chapbook give-away titles in this give-away include: Solitude is an Acrobatic Act (2020) by Khashayar Mohammadi; Furigraphic Horizons (2019) by Hawad, translated from the French by Jake Syersak; from The Book of Bramah (2019) by Renée Sarojini Saklikar; After the Battle of Kingsway, the bees— (second printing, 2019) by Renée Sarojini Saklikar; Open Island, three poems (2017) by Faizal Deen; CONCEALED WEAPONS / ANIMAL SURVIVORS (2018) by natalie hanna; dark ecologies (2017) by natalie hanna; G U E S T [a journal of guest editors] #9 (2020), edited by natalie hanna; and ANGELTONGUE / LENGUA DE ÁNGEL (2018) by Miguel E. Ortiz Rodríguez.

First come, first served! And while supplies last, obviously. I’ve twenty or more of all but natalie hanna’s earlier chapbook on hand for this give-away. I had hoped, as well, to be able to include copies of either of Jordan Abel’s above/ground press titles, or either of George Elliott Clarke’s above/ground press titles, but I simply haven’t enough copies of any of those. If you are able to donate and wish to let me know, send me an email to rob_mclennan (at) hotmail.com with your mailing address, and your requested title(s). I will keep running this until all of the chapbooks in this box by my desk is empty!

Could above/ground press be better at producing works by writers of colour? Oh, certainly. There’s plenty of room for improvement. I will do my best to do better.

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

12 or 20 (small press) questions with Jake Syersak and Paul Cunningham on Radioactive Cloud


Jake Syersak received his MFA from the University of Arizona and is currently a PhD student in English and Creative Writing at the University of Georgia. He is the author of the full-length Yield Architecture (Burnside Books, 2018) and several chapbooks, including Neocologism: A Trio of Encyclopedic Entries for Treading the Anthropo-Scenic Psyche (ShirtPocket Press, 2017), These Ghosts / This Compost: An Aubadeclogue (above/ground press 2017), Impressions in the Language of a Lantern’s Wick (Ghost Proposal 2016), and Notes to Wed No Toward (Plan B Press 2014). His poems have appeared in Black Warrior Review, Colorado Review, Conjunctions, Verse Daily, Omniverse, and elsewhere. He edits Cloud Rodeo, serves as a contributing editor for Letter Machine Editions, and co-curates the Yumfactory Reading Series alongside Paul Cunningham in Athens, GA. He is currently at work on an anthology of American surrealism and translating the works of Moroccan writer Mohammed Khair-Eddine.

Paul Cunningham is the author of a chapbook of poems called GOAL/TENDER MEAT/TENDER (horse less press, 2015) and he is the translator of two chapbooks by Swedish author, playwright, and video artist, Sara Tuss Efrik: Automanias: Selected Poems (winner of the 2015 Goodmorning Menagerie Chapbook-in-Translation Contest) and The Night’s Belly (Toad Press, Fall 2016). His translations of Helena Österlund have appeared in Asymptote, Interim, and Sink Review. He is a contributing editor to Fanzine and his writing can be found in Yalobusha Review, DREGINALD, Dostoyevsky Wannabe’s Cassette 68, Fireflies Film Magazine, DIAGRAM, Bat City Review, LIT, Tarpaulin Sky, Spork, and others. His poem-film, It Is Announced (a collaboration with Valerie Mejer Caso and Barry Shapiro), premiered in the 2016 Kochi-Muziris Biennale. He co-curates the Yumfactory Reading Series with Jake Syersak in Athens, GA. He holds a MFA in Poetry from the University of Notre Dame.

1 – When did Radioactive Cloud first start? How have your original goals as a publisher shifted since you started, if at all? And what have you learned through the process?

Paul: Radioactive Cloud is still a relatively new operation. Cloud Rodeo and Radioactive Moat Press only recently joined forces in fall 2017.

Jake: I’d been wanting to publish chapbooks for a while, but I never really knew how. Then I met Paul, who had successfully published a number of chapbooks but had since halted production. I think we were downing $1 pints of lager at Grindhouse during a very sweaty Georgia summer day when we got talking about the possibilities of making it happen. I really wanted to learn how to do it and he seemed to not want to do it alone: so there you go. I think it was pretty clear to both of us that our respective literary journals had similar enough aesthetics that we would be compatible as editors but also that their aesthetic leanings were different enough that it would make for an interesting mashup.

2 – What first brought you to publishing?

P: I started Radioactive Moat in 2009. My aim has always been to publish work from both emerging and established writers. Since I grew up in the green of the radioactive, slime-saturated 90s, it’s no surprise that my endeavors tend to include dark ecologies, grotesquerie, abject bodies, and the Anthropocene. I’m also interested in poetry-in-translation, poetry that seeks to decolonize, and poetry that responds to queerness.

J: I’ve been involved with a number of journals/presses, including Cloud Rodeo, Sonora Review, and Letter Machine Editions. I realized pretty early on that trends in literature don’t happen spontaneously; they’re cultivated over time by those that provide them a venue. But it’s not just a line of influence I’m interested in. I’ve always wanted to have a more direct line to the artists themselves. Running a press and/or journal gives you a great excuse to reach out to and establish relationships with artists you might not get a chance to communicate with otherwise.

3 – What do you consider the role and responsibilities, if any, of small publishing?

P: To put the needs of your authors and contributors before your own.

J: Right, it really comes down to that. If you don’t believe whole-heartedly in every single work you publish, and aren’t prepared to defend and serve that work in every capacity at your disposal, you shouldn’t be in that position. There’s no room for editors just going through the motions. The literary sphere will be what we make it.

4 – What do you see your press doing that no one else is?

P: As far as ‘ecopoetics’ go, I think we’re kind of tired of that. When it comes to nature, we’re looking for something more than a description of the view from a mountain or someone’s reflection on an afternoon hike. That might be one thing that separates us from other presses. Maybe it’s time for a ‘nature poem’ that scares the hell out of people. I think that’s what we’re looking for. It’s not enough anymore to dedicate an ode or a few euphonic lines to a nearly or already-extinct species. It’s too late for that kind of poem.  

J: Considering the first two books we’re publishing, it’s clear we’re aiming to reconfigure how ecologies intertwine with poetics. The fascinating thing about both Carleen and Dennis’ books is that they both implicitly reject traditional ontological models that separate the human from the nonhuman with laser-like precision. Making that boundary more spectral and fuzzy is vital to a future ethics. I think we’re in this as much for ethics as we are for aesthetics. We’re not aiming low here. We’re looking for work that shifts paradigms. We’re lucky to begin our press with two books that do just that.

5 – What do you see as the most effective way to get new chapbooks out into the world?

P: Encouraging others to review chapbooks and thanking them for their time and care with review copies. Being active on social media or at least having some kind of presence on social media.

6 – How involved an editor are you? Do you dig deep into line edits, or do you prefer more of a light touch?

P: We don’t dig too deep. After all, we liked our authors’ poems for a reason, right? Give us your wonkiest grammar, your lowest references to pop culture! Give us your apple cores, your most nourishing jargon! We’re not interested in rewriting poems. If something seems off about a piece, we’ll just ask.

J: I’m willing to be as involved or non-involved as the author wants. Above all, I want to respect their vision. If we’re publishing it, we’ve already agreed on a fundamental level that we share the vision of the work, and that’s good enough for me.

7 – How do your books get distributed? What are your usual print runs?

P: Chapbooks are shipped in the mail. We do a print run of 100 copies of each chapbook. Once a chapbook has sold out, we ask our authors if they would like us to make their chapbook available as a digital download on the Radioactive Cloud site.

8 – How many other people are involved with editing or production? Do you work with other editors, and if so, how effective do you find it? What are the benefits, drawbacks?

P: There’s just two of us at the moment and four hands are better than one.

J: It’s funny, I think we began the venture just needing someone else’s motivation to kick our asses into gear. We both wanted to do it but I don’t think either of us wanted to go it alone. I know I had had enough of being sole editor of Cloud Rodeo. I wasn’t growing in any respect as a publisher in isolation.  

9– How has being an editor/publisher changed the way you think about your own writing?


J: I’m always inundated with work that’s far better than my own, so I’m always thinking “shit, I’ve gotta do better.” It keeps me from becoming too comfortable, complacent, or satisfied with my own work. It’s keeps me in a consistent positive panic.

P: I agree with Jake. I think there’s definitely a risk in feeling ‘too comfortable’ with your own writing. Something David Bowie once said has always stayed with me: “If you feel safe in the area you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area.”

10– How do you approach the idea of publishing your own writing? Some, such as Gary Geddes when he still ran Cormorant, refused such, yet various Coach House Press’ editors had titles during their tenures as editors for the press, including Victor Coleman and bpNichol. What do you think of the arguments for or against, or do you see the whole question as irrelevant?

J: I don’t see anything inherently wrong with it as long as the press doesn’t become a vehicle solely for promoting the editors’ work. There’s certainly more incredible work out there than there are publishers, and so a lot of it doesn’t see the light of day.  I would abstain from publishing my own work only because I’m generally uncomfortable with self-promotion and I think there are far better writers more deserving. I see editorial work as a chance to serve rather than as a personal opportunity. An editor/press out for themselves is a dangerous thing for everybody.

P: I agree with Jake’s take on editorial work as a chance to serve other writers. I might have fewer concerns about self-promotion than him though. I have been a vocal supporter of writers like Steve Roggenbuck. You have to do what works best for you.


11– How do you see Radioactive Cloud evolving?

P: It would be awesome to publish full-length books down the road, but that takes more money. In the meantime, we’re focused on printing one to two chapbooks a year.

J: Yeah, hard to say. I’d love for it to evolve to full-lengths, too. We’ll keep working with the resources we have and take it one step at a time.

12– What, as a publisher, are you most proud of accomplishing? What do you think people have overlooked about your publications? What is your biggest frustration?

J: Well, we had a really successful first open reading period. And we got far more impressive submissions than we were able to take on as projects. So far, so good.

13– Who were your early publishing models when starting out?

P: I was influenced by chapbook publishers like Encyclopedia Destructica, Greying Ghost Press, and Ugly Duckling Presse. Lately, I’ve been really impressed with everything going on over at Bloof Books.

J: As far as chapbooks go, I’ve always really loved the things that Doublecross and Anomalous do.

14– How does Radioactive Cloud work to engage with your immediate literary community, and community at large? What journals or presses do you see Radioactive Cloud in dialogue with? How important do you see those dialogues, those conversations?

P: Those conversations are very important to us and our website lists journals and presses that continue to inspire us. Just click on “What We Like.”

15– Do you hold regular or occasional readings or launches? How important do you see public readings and other events?

P: We currently co-curate the Yumfactory Reading Series (named after Lara Glenum’s Pop Corpse) in Athens, Georgia.

16– How do you utilize the internet, if at all, to further your goals?

P: We share our own work and support the work of others. We review new books when we have the time and share reviews to help spread the word.

17– Do you take submissions? If so, what aren’t you looking for?

P: We will most likely hold another Open Reading Period some time in November or December of 2018.

18– Tell me about three of your most recent titles, and why they’re special.

P: For now, there’s only two in the making. In fall of 2018, we’ll be proudly distributing Dennis James Sweeney’s Poems About Moss and Carleen TibbettsDATACLYSM.jpg. Whether it’s Tibbetts’ “river of zeroes” or Sweeney’s “Black moss,” we see both of these titles as very much in conversation with one other.

J: I am over-the-moon excited about our first two books. These books are innovations of their genres, not just “good” works. Carleen Tibbetts’ DATACLYSM.jpg is full of jewel-sharp, picturesque, lyrical trudges across an unquantifiable digital landscape, fetishizing its own spit-up of cultural ones and zeros as it goes. It’s grotesque and tender and cacophonous and full of beautifully winding human and inhuman turns. Reading it makes me feel like I’m some weird stream unsure of where an algorithm ends and where the human begins. That’s pretty cool. And how can I describe Dennis James Sweeney’s Poems About Moss? Part poem, part essay, part collage, part political treatise: it opens up all these abstracted sores/spores of Trump-era politics, language-powers, moss languages, subject-object dualisms, confessional voices, textual ecologies, and sites/cites their weirdly weird and unexpected exchanges. I’m in awe of both books. They’re special because they’ve renewed my faith in the undiscovered that poetry has special access to.



Friday, May 25, 2018

Jake Syersak, Yield Architecture



“Architecture as establishing moving relationships with raw materials” streams from Corbusier’s jaw as if it were its own internal dwelling, a thing, as in: the marriage of the & ing. Something kingly as coming to the agreement an airplane’s in flight, though it’s a flighty background sews the eye through the usefulness of jets’ eyelets. What forwards this I through this—through any—environment is recognizing the design the raw moves on moves on. So I’m looking over the cast of lines: of life, motion, & the narrative kind—all the outliers we work in to affront. Will that affluent taste of fluency, squeegeed across a window tongue, Niagra into any fountained clarity? What physical insight this might justify, I’m unsure. Wolves swill into these fingerprints as easily as conversation eats them. But if crowning the integrity of building’s all we can amount to, best to follow those fault lines religiously. (“Skins, Skeins, History, Hysteria & Dust”)

Officially released this past March, on my forty-eighth birthday, no less (thanks, Jake!) is Athens, Georgia poet, editor and publisher Jake Syersak’s first full-length poetry title, Yield Architecture (Portland OR: Burnside Review Press, 2018), a book that follows a small handful of chapbooks produced by presses such as above/ground press and Shirt Pocket Press. Set in four self-contained sections—“Skins, Skeins, History, Hysteria & Dust,” “Soldered Opposite of Weather Was Yourself,” “Fractal Noises from the Foliage” and “Impressions in the Language of a Lantern’s Wick” (which appeared previously as a chapbook with Ghost Proposal in 2016)—Syersak’s Yield Architecture does give the sense of both a critical essay, and a poetry composed of fault lines, assembled in such a way as to tremble, pull apart and rattle against each other when required. Composed as an assemblage and sequence of direct statements, notes, sketched-out lines, lyrics, prose poems and pulled-apart sentence structures, the poems both challenge and give way, effecting a yield, even, against itself, and its own structure. If, as the late Canadian lyric poet John Newlove wrote in The Night the Dog Smiled (Toronto ON: ECW Press, 1986), “the arrangement is all,” then Syersak’s poems are obsessed with their own construction, and even, in effect, rebel against themselves, arguing for their own dismantlement, even as they accumulate and build, writing:

fortitude’s resistance requires
            a moment’s tranquility revolve
                                          in a piece—of asphalt,
feather, or flight

point-by-point petrification of

                          a dove’s symbology of
                                         refusal, exacting

      up-gasps
of air
the lung-lids (“Impressions in the Language of a Lantern’s Wick”)

Inan interview conducted by James Eidson for Ghost Proposal, posted online on April 16, 2017, Syersak wrote:

At this point I’m pretty hostile toward anything that refers to poetic language as a “game.” I don’t mean to take myself too seriously (because I did, in fact, have a lot of fun writing this book), but I think there’s always more at stake. I blame the LANGUAGE poets for creating the mentality that poetry is somehow nothing more than a “game” to be played. There are too many life / death ramifications evident in language pervading our culture to think like that. Looking back, I actually think now that this book (what’s now the last section to a larger collection called Yield Architecture) was my attempt to purge the influence of LANGUAGE poetry from my own poetics. My poems will always be haunted by their influence, but I hope it endures as some centrifuge of sabotage, maybe through the formless material you cite that manifests through sensation. Anyways, you’re right: at the heart of this book is an obsession with paradox—the palpable vs. the impalpable, the ethereal vs. the concrete, etc. I’m obsessed with poets who share that obsessive deconstruction of paradox but want to lug it into the real world, charge it politically, and break it into digestible pieces. Juliana Spahr, j/j hastain, Hoa Nguyen, Will Alexander, and Fred Moten are all poets that were really present with me while writing it. Most everything released by Action Books, Ahsahta, or Commune Editions endures with me.


Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Ongoing notes: late(r) October, 2017



It occurs to me that I haven’t done one of these in a while, and the incoming chapbooks are beginning to pile up.



Toronto ON: American poet, critic, editor and publisher Dale Smith’s first Canadian publication (he and partner Hoa Nguyen relocated from Texas to Toronto with their two boys in 2011) is the chapbook Sons (Knife Fork Book, 2017), a sequence of intimate and untitled fragments that focus on the immediacy of parenting:

Spiny lizard on yucca
Bury spade in clay
Scoop it watch him
Scrape with plastic toy
The ground gives
Slowly
Loosen its roots
With water
Pat warm dirt and mulch
Hello Tree
Hello Tree
Hello Tree

Composed out of hesitations, breath and an attention to the most elusive of moments, Smith writes out a sequence of meditative fragments include the awareness of being attentive to the requirements of and anxieties around fathering two boys: “Show them / A man / What that could be [.]” There is such a care carved into these short lines and phrases, one created out of such intimacy, deep love and attention, with neither a word nor sentiment not set exactly how and where they should be.

Will there be fish to eat
One day
Breaking flesh
To feast
With a lightness
And assurance
Will our children
Have enough
An ancient question
And terror of not
Living up to what
The many tides of people
In us have made

Grand Rapids MI/Athens GA: From Georgia poet Jake Syersak comes the new chapbook NEOCOLOGISM: A TRIO OF ENCYCLOPEDIC ENTRIES FOR TREADING THE ANTHROPO-SCENIC PSYCHE (2017), produced through Michael Sikkema’s Shirt Pocket Press. In case you haven’t noticed, Syersak has been releasing a flurry of chapbooks lately (including one with above/ground press), and there is an enormous amount going on in this new work of accumulated fragments, prose sections and lyric aggregations that evolve into a particular kind of essay-poem. I find Syersak’s chapbooks-to-date absolutely fascinating, and he’s clearly working with longer forms than the chapbook-length work, which make me curious to see what his eventual full-length collections will look like.

You told me that the NY Times says The Apple Corporation is using Picasso’s le Taureau (an 11-lithograph sequence showing the evolution of a bull’s being built in the cubist mode) to exemplify, in some way or another, how business trends toward the ergonomic, simplistic, are not only inevitable but high-brow, academically-sound. Endearing, somewhat, I thought, but I couldn’t help but ask, evolution’s a ha-ha eyeing its beholder when you own the rights prescribing it, right? You told me, “you can unwind oblivion or a sketchist’s wrist only in so far as the m-dash of its original animal ache.” & unwinding the voilà of a rose reveals?—“what the rose is: voilà, revolting.”

________


sometimes you turn into
this thing
you can’t believe
until belief bends
into a becoming thing.

I sleep next to this laundry
because I hate to hang old phantoms.

Ina recent interview posted at Ghost Proposal, while discussing the forthcoming chapbook Impressions in the Language of a Lantern’s Wick, which they also published, Syersak responds:

I blame the LANGUAGE poets for creating the mentality that poetry is somehow nothing more than a “game” to be played. There are too many life / death ramifications evident in language pervading our culture to think like that. Looking back, I actually think now that this book (what’s now the last section to a larger collection called Yield Architecture) was my attempt to purge the influence of LANGUAGE poetry from my own poetics. My poems will always be haunted by their influence, but I hope it endures as some centrifuge of sabotage, maybe through the formless material you cite that manifests through sensation.