The Night They Raided Myrna's

 

The dazzling Myrna goes all burlesque on us,  and if you look in the comments of the blog post, you'll find a link to her fabulous classic album Explosive Vocal Percussion, an understated title if there ever was one, believe you me. 

Don't Touch:

Gurlesque: The New Grrly, Grotesque, Burlesque Poetics

Edited by Lara Glenum and Arielle Greenberg
Saturnalia Books

The problem with books with two introductions is that one can inevitably doom the other and, at worst, the entire book. This just might be the case with the contra(dictory)dance of introductions to the anthology Gurlesque, edited by poets Lara Glenum and Arielle Greenberg. According to Glenum, Gurlesue poetry “assaults the norms of acceptable female behavior by irreverently deploying gender stereotypes to subversive ends.” Both editors relate this poetry to cultural movements like riot grrrl, burlesque, kitsch, camp, and more.

For Greenberg, Gurlesque is “not a movement or a camp or a clique.” (Okay, so what is it then?) It is “just something [she] saw...born of black organza witch costumes and the silver worn-out sequins mashed between scratchy pink tutu netting and velvet unicorn paintings and arena rock ballads…” Her list continues and is reminiscent of the sub/counter culture detritus that has wound up at mall stores like Hot Topic. I really wanted to love the idea of Gurlesque and was looking forward to some in-depth and sophisticated rendering. Unfortunately, Greenberg sounds like a chatty scenester at a party, making the anthology seem little more than a self-serving, self-validating effort.

Luckily, Glenum’s introduction is more intellectually sound and includes some interesting theory; however, both seem resistant to lay any more than spotty groundwork about what Gurlesque is or isn’t, at the same time that they see the selected poems as being exemplary of this “idea”. From Greenberg: “Being in this anthology doesn’t mean anything about the poets in particular: we are just trotting these poems out on our sideshow stage because of what we see in them.” And from Glenum: “I am not insisting that this genealogy forms a common knowledge base for Gurlesque poets…I intend the above merely as a loose sketch of aesthetic tendencies and impulses, an artistic and theoretical heritage from which the Gurlesque draws its manifold, relentless energies.” Yet wouldn’t the artifact of the anthology prove more than a loose sketch?

So what about the actual poetry? What does Gurlesque poetry look and read like? I asked a poet friend who said “pile on the cum, pile on the vomit, heap on the porn.” Poet Ariana Reines doesn’t disappoint with lines like “First he spit on my asshole and then start in with a middle finger and then the cock slid in no sound come out only a maw gaping, grind hard into ground.” While this might seem like a performance of pornographic crassness, it could be seen (and I tease this from the Exoskeleton poetry blog) as skillfully employing the savvy irony of our cultural moment: self-consciously using played out shock-for-shock’s sake.

These aren’t easy poems to read. They aren’t your grandmother’s poems, and they aren’t Hallmark greeting card poems. They aren’t like most poems you would read in a book grabbed off the shelf in Barnes & Nobles, or even the library. If you make it through the bric-a-brac of the introductions, you get a good sense of some very new and innovative (if not all that good or likable) poetics.

Readers might be jarred by Chelsey Minnis’ excessive use of ellipses, to the point of frustration. The visual disorientation of the work gives the reader the sense that so much else is going on around and outside the poems, they become part of a much wider extended dialogue in which the reader is invited to imagine the activity in the pauses. Excerpts from Geraldine Kim’s “Povel” recalibrate our sense of poetry, prose, and the quotable. Lines like “I was barn./I was razed./I was mot this flame with no’s sum else blue’s blame noir yearning down the house” from Heidi Lynn Staple’s “Fonder a Care Kept” are going to test even the most adept readers of contemporary poetry.

There is a great deal of variety in this anthology, and as a woman of color, while I was happy to see Asian American women represented, I was strongly disappointed by the apparent lack of work by African American, Latina, or Native American women. While I suppose it is possible (though unlikely) that such women of color aren’t writing Gurlesque, it seems more plausible that when it depends on one’s field of vision that this is an effect of “just something I saw.”

Review by L

Behind the Burly Q

Directed by Leslie Zemeckis
First Run Features



We can't deny that we're in the midst of a Burlesque Renaissance, at least in New York City—go to any club downtown and see for yourself. But there's also no denying that the art form has undergone a drastic change since its heyday, if not in the style of performance then in how its performers are received. Today there's something kitschy about women stripping down to pasties and shaking it 'til their tassels twirl. What was once our version of pole dancing has developed an innocent gloss with time. Nostalgia has helped us to appreciate burlesque for both its titillation and its humor, and to consider its performers not only strippers but also gifted comediennes.

In Behind the Burly Q, countless dancers from burlesque's "golden age" remind us that, even then, humor was always key, but that we shouldn't forget what the art form's really about. One former dancer recalls a remark made by her husband long after she'd stopped: "You weren't a stripper; you were in burlesque." She replied, "Well honey, what do you think I was doing in burlesque? I wasn't playing the piano."

This tongue-in-cheek attitude must have rubbed off on director Leslie Zemeckis, as she does her best to keep the film light even when approaching the darkest of subjects. Like many of those working the strip club circuit today, burlesque dancers of the thirties typically grew up underprivileged and often abused, with little hope for advancement. Some of the most famous performers, like Lili St. Cyr, carried their demons well into celebrity, falling into depression and drug use. Still, all of Zemeckis' interviewees look back on the era fondly, even when discussing their own struggles, and Zemeckis underscores their resilience with jaunty vaudevillian music throughout.

It's impossible to estimate how arousing burlesque was for audiences contemporary to its prime, but according to Behind the Burly Q, its performers were admired and courted by movie stars and politicians alike (including a young JFK). Burlesque brought them money and adoration, more than they could have garnered in any other profession available to them, and many of them truly enjoyed what they did. In fact, some dancers performed well into middle age, Ann Corio into her 80's. The film retains that same bawdy, shameless joy, while still managing to give proper reverence to its subject—and its originators.

Review by Caitlin Graham