The Havocs by Jacob Polley, and The Hammer Horror Vault by Marcus Hearn: double feature reviews

This is going to be slightly different. You’re getting a double feature for my next two reviews because they’re both rather short.

            First up we have a book that a read at least once a year, and have done since 2016. It wasn’t meant to be tradition, but when I picked it up last summer, I figured that it might just be something that I’m to do every summer. I should probably actually buy the book, but I also want to try to anything to keep my local library alive, and borrowing as often as I can keeps it going. The book in question is The Havocs by Jacob Polley. It’s a poetry collection that I’ve been utterly in love with since first reading it. Here, I’ll be doing reviews of a few of the pieces, and then leaving my thoughts on the collection as a whole at the end.

Doll’s House

“To live is not to fear/despite the scale of what’s at stake” will forever be one of my favourite quotes from any poem. There’s a temptation to get it tattooed, but I worry that a poetry tattoo might be somewhat pretentious. This whole poem is beautifully written; it’s a second person narrator talking to someone looking into a doll’s house as if they are some kind of supreme being. The household items with the strange twist because they are actually doll’s house furniture is odd, but I love it.

First Bike

As you might imagine, this piece is brimming with nostalgia. I never even learned to ride a bike, but I feel the fondness that comes from this poem. It isn’t just about the bike. It’s the firsts shared with loved ones that become something that you can own for yourself. Walking to school on your own for the first time is what it really reminded me of. Of course, if I’d have learned to ride a bike, I’d be taken there, but the nostalgia that pours out of this still managed to find me.

An Empty House

This one always reminds me of exercises in drama classes where you’d say the same sentence over and over, putting emphasis on a different word every time. So much of this collection brings me to moments in my past, and so many of these poems have to be read through rose-tinted glasses.

Tarn

A colder piece in the collection. It’s not so optimistic as much of the collection is. I can’t quite describe what it is, but I feel an affinity to this poem. It’s the sort of thing I can never just read once. It latches on and won’t let go after the first read-through.

Dark Moon

I’m a sucker for anything featuring an anthropomorphised moon. I adore the “VACANCY sign” line. There’s no particular reason why, but I just love the way it sounds. There’s something sort of sweet about the imagery.

The Havocs

The title poem of the collection really lives up to its name. it opens with the lines “in the making of havoc, there’s me.” There is so much raw power in that line, and that power continues throughout the piece. “Who says havoc is a vice of the young?” carries so much behind it. Havoc as a vice is already choc-full of chaos, and the addition of it as being no longer reserved for the young is superb. Havoc becomes a verb later on, and brings it all new meaning. It’s a fire blazing through this poem, and I love that. I willingly allow the havoc to burn through me.

The Weasel

It follows the rhythm of “Pop Goes the Weasel” and I really enjoy Polley’s play on it here. It’s an unusual choice, but very effective.

            Overall, this collection stuns me every time. I have another of his collections, and can’t wait to devour it. Get yourself a copy of this, and enjoy for yourself. If you’re local to me (you know who you are) head down to the library and pick it up.

Next up, we have The Hammer Vault: treasures from the archive of Hammer films. I am fully aware that recommending this will make no difference if you have no interest in the subject at hand. However, if you do have and interest in Hammer films, horror films, or just the history of film in general then, go ahead and find yourself a copy.

            I haven’t much to say about this other than the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed it. I’ve always loved Hammer Horror. It’s camp, excessive, and thoroughly British. The responses to Hammer were always painfully British too. I won’t ruin the joy, just get yourself a copy (another library find for me, too).