Eborakon is a poetry magazine based at the University of York, publishing new writers alongside established poets. The name derives from the Brythonic for York, meaning “place of the yews”. We value writing that is rooted, both in the resonances of language as it has been used over the course of history, and in the evocation of place. We are nourished by the writers and critics that have preceded us, at the same time branching out to explore the future. Like the yew, for us poetry is mysterious and earthly, real matter that is potentially dangerous to savour.
Laura Blomvall and Stephen Grace Editorial
Kit Fan -- The River Vienne, Ten Haikus by Fan Kuan, The
Painted Garden in the Villa of Livia
Rahul Gupta -- א (Aleph)
Jon Stone -- Terminal Ballistics
Gerald Dawe -- Two Elegies
Astra Papachristodoulou -- flexland, zn for trauma
Lesley Saunders -- Three 'Gold' Poems
Jan Wagner (translated by Jamie Osborn) -- anna,
houdini in the mirror, shepherd's pie
Muzaffar alNawab (translated by Ahmed Khaleel) -- For the train and Hamad
Angie Spoto -- waiting for joy child, the honeymoon months
Sarah Cave -- 'I have nothing...'
James Coghill -- Dragonfly
David Wheatley -- Dip, Letter to Joseph Massey
Suzannah V. Evans -- Song of West Sands, Tambourine
Caitríona O’Reilly -- Eels, Fly
David Morris -- Cooling Towers; Fishermen's Huts Skinningrove; Steel Making, Redcar; Evening Light, Whitby
Ríona Nic Congáil -- Irish-Language Women’s Poetry: Death and the Afterlife of Translation
featuring Caitríona O'Reilly
Anna Svendsen on Thomas Dilworth and David Jones
Stephen Grace on Judith Willson
Notes on Contributors
Featuring new poetry from: Wendy Cope, Adam Crothers, Peter Hughes, and David Troupes.
Plus artwork Lisajane Braun and Ann Skea.
Click here for a full list of the contents.
Editors: Alex Alonso and Anna Mercer
Assistant Editors: Laura Blomvall, Sam Buchan-Watts, Stephen Grace and Jack Quin.
Managing Editor: Dr James Williams
Eborakon Issue Four Launch Party
Wednesday 14th March 2018, 6.30pm
In order to celebrate the launch of Issue four of Eborakon, we will be hosting a launch party at the Walmgate Alehouse. We are happy to announce that contributors to the issue, including Suzannah V. Evans, Kit Fan, Rahul Gupta, Ahmed Khaleel, and Martin Potter, will be reading from their work. Submissions for issue five will be opened at the launch.
Location: Walmgate Ale House and Bistro, 25 Walmgate, York, YO1 9TX.
Up the hill and overlooking Aix
Without seeing it branch shadows
Cross and re-cross on the sand yellow
Leaves shade out distractions back
The terrace heaven green while carefully
Calibrated grey shines gloom inside
From painted walls and dedicate a sacred
Factory and still suggesting real
Presences despite the painter’s retirement
A century ago and curious tramping
Through the precincts never would have been
Tolerated then though reverent
But they can witness that he forged his pictures
On a wattled world before canvas.
The notion of ‘ekphrastic poetry’ can seem problematic at first glance, particularly if the etymology is taken into account – ‘saying out’ – suggesting a kind of explication, or a conversion of a work of art into prose. Part of this mismatch – between the etymological idea of explication, and the modern idea of transfer from one art form into another – may be due to the history of the term ekphrasis, the early use of which in rhetoric did not specifically refer to the representation of one art work by means of another kind of art work, or even of the description of a work of art in language Nevertheless, to suppose that work of art can be translated in some way into one of another kind, or that something about it can be represented again artistically in a different medium, raises a number of awkward questions. Do art works carry messages? Can the import of a work of art be said? Is there anything which could be carried across from picture into a piece of music, or into a piece of language? Can something about a picture (or piece of music) be reproduced more effectively in artistic or discursive language?
If it is admitted that an
art work can represent (or ‘re-present’, as David Jones would say) a truth or reality, but that this truth is present in the work in a way which cannot be said in any other way, in line with
Gadamer’s argument in his essay ‘The Relevance of the Beautiful’, then the possibility of a translation of what a work of art says seems to be affirmed and denied at the same time – there is
something to translate, but it is untranslatable. The key to a way beyond this impasse may lie in poetry’s being artistic language. A poem will not aim to explicate what a painting, for example,
means, or reproduce its visual impression (something at which the painting’s own medium cannot be surpassed), since poetry is more synthetic than analytical in character. What poetry can achieve
is a new making, such that, if a painting is the point of departure, the poem can ‘re-re-present’ some aspect truly present in the painting, resulting in a new thing, which may enrich
understanding of the work it has been inspired by, but which also calls for a new response. The ekphrastic poem will thus add to the being in the world (as Gadamer suggests all art does, in the
as a making of a new set of signs to signify, and re-present something of, a pre-existing signifying ensemble (work of art), may imply a further dimension, one which perhaps diminishes the
specificity of ekphrasis as a phenomenon, but increases its depth. Any work of art could be understood as a kind of ekphrasis, if the realities they signify themselves have the power of
signification – if the things we see, hear and feel in the world and in ourselves have their own meanings, which their re-presented forms carry with them into each new making.
Cézanne’s studio, where he worked late in his career, and which can be visited today (together with its garden), was built and set up according to his specifications, and so is perhaps one of his works of art in its own right, with a work of art’s completeness and self-containment, carrying its own elusive meaning – elusive, that is, in terms of discursive language – and aspects and parts of which he then re-interpreted and re-embodied in paint. I visited on a hot summer afternoon, appreciating the heavy shade the trees round the building provided, and it felt as if Cézanne might step onto the gravel at any time.
Martin Potter has taught English literature in tertiary education, and has published on the twentieth-century Anglo-Welsh poet David Jones. His poems have appeared in Acumen, The Cannon’s Mouth, and The French Literary Review.