Poetry, Short Stories & Plays
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Whether portraying ancestral hearth-sides in North Norfolk, the coast and countryside of Northumberland, or varied settings in between, Paul Berry conjures a strong sense of mood and location.
At times focusing on family life, everyday rituals, rites of passage or the legacies of lost love, these poems celebrate the often remarkable nature of things routine, familiar and commonplace.
Reviews for previous collections:
“Berry is a poet of place. He explores the spirit of place, the effect of landscape on the individual… (His) work is tight and careful, a sculptor with words”: British Underground Magscene.
"This ability to evoke the past that lies in the earth is reminiscent of Seamus Heaney's poetry:" The Paper Independent Monthly
Here's what readers have to say about this book....
Paul Berry chooses and uses words to paint vivid pictures but not so prescriptively that the reader is unable to identify something of themselves and their own experiences amongst them. His ability to take a snapshot in words and capture atmosphere is a gift, and the connect between geographical and emotional place is exceptional and completely unforced; it is something Betjeman and Hardy did very well (in my opinion). The book takes its title - What Leaves May Know - from one of the poems. When I see an ancient tree, I think of what it has seen and the skeletal leaf, on the cover, 'absorbing' life's events is a lovely concept. I absolutely adore this book, it's bloody brilliant! I'm afraid that in its short life it is becoming somewhat dog-eared already.
After reading novels some special characters stay with me - Becky Sharpe, Maggie Tulliver - who could forget them? With art, it is often the striking images - the figure of Christ before the High Priest for example, in the painting of Gerrit van Honthorst, or Van Gogh's chair. With poetry, I get particular (but not only, of course) delight from well-presented descriptions - the verbal descriptions. As in these examples from Paul Berry's new volume, WHAT LEAVES MAY KNOW: 'Time to watch steam curling from pans/ simmering among coals cradling them'; 'coffee'd milk heaved to the flame's bidding'; 'no stick for stabbing puddles'; and 'turning fields to shining corduroy'. Delightful! Such images shine in the picture often presented in the poems. The poems do not concern themselves with the joy of living. A strong thread of reminiscence, often tinged with regret, runs through this collection. Look at the picture on the back cover, of the widow sitting alone by her coal fire and boiling pan, opposite an empty chair, with the clock ticking away on the mantlepiece telling her the time, when she better knows what time it is herself. She is seemingly lost in remembering, folded arms betokening an acceptance of her lot. That picture is worth a thousand words and a better one could not have been chosen for this collection of poems. The poet has a powerful ability to recall and present details from the past, as well as being knowledgeable about places and their history, which he includes in the poems. The past - what has passed - is Berry's turf. Parents. Young children. Grandparents. The history of places. He writes about 'days marred by melancholy'; of 'the drizzled end of a dull day'; and 'rheumy eyes, telling of grief'; of 'a transient magic to nease dark days'; the 'night noises still,/ haunting loud with folly and regret'; and those 'long shadows (that) tease ghostly platelayers/ in briared and brambled broken huts'. The poetry is in the heartache - of living, losing, remembering, witnessing. 'They learn in suffering what they teach in song', as Shelley writes. Encased in the most delightful Cambridge light blue covers (I love the frontage) WHAT LEAVES MAY KNOW is also a lovely collection to handle and admire.
