Uche Nduka, Eel on Reef

I finished Uche Nduka's Eel on Reef yesterday morning and have been wondering what to make of it since. Well, truth be told, I was wondering what the hell to make of it just a few poems in.

I know that I'll be writing a more detailed review for the African Poetry Review (USA) shortly. But in the meantime...

Oh goodness!

I purposely avoided reading Kwame Dawes's introduction hoping to come to Nduka's poetry fresh. But instead, in my darker moments, I read it as just so many words chewed up and spit out on the page. Dawes is a much more generous reader, yet even he at times "felt as if the poet was working too hard to confuse me and I resented that" (11).

Resentment is too strong a word for my own feelings. Baffled? Not just by the "what" but the "why" of the collection (which, I might add, is beautifully put together and very attractively laid out). Dawes is a fan of the imagism, encouraging the reader to surrender and "write" the poetry fresh; rush through and linger. He sees reward where I only felt a degree of weariness.

There were glimmers that struck, an eroticism that almost rolled at times. But for the most part I was left to duck my head and push through.