The
Book of Feral Flora
Amanda Ackerman. Les Figues
Press, $17 paperback (196p) ISBN: 978-1-934254-58-5
I
was at first captivated and struck by the title of Amanda Ackerman’s
collection. Feral Flora. I imagined stories that were darkly whimsical, tales
of wild plants on the hunt perhaps, or poetic explorations juxtaposing the
fantastic. Some of the material in The
Book of Feral Flora was apparently generated by plants themselves- a
concept which I found to be extremely intriguing. Ackerman recorded herself
reading her work and then sent it to a programming poet, Dan Richert, who
played the recordings for plants. Richert then recorded the responses of the
plants, via electrical impulses, and new texts were created from the originals.
These ‘plant writings’ make up much of the text pieces compiled in the section
“Feral Iridium Animate Matter: flowery uneconomical language” (another title
that I love) and the Table of Contents. Ackerman also points out in her Process
Notes that while writing the texts meant to be recorded, she interacted with
different plants in various somatic ways such as touching or ingesting the
plants. In short, Ackerman is not afraid to take wild experimentation to the
edge. I admire the way she thinks and have to give her props for committing
herself wholeheartedly to the production of the pieces in “Feral Iridium.”
Ackerman is clearly a writer who lives and breathes the material she has
dedicated herself to.
That
being said, The Book of Feral Flora
proves problematic. While the concepts are intriguing, the results produced
were repetitive and overwhelming. Many
of the pieces in this collection could stand alone brilliantly, but the act of
compiling them together creates a morass that quickly encourages a loss of
interest. For example, the section titled “Short Stones” juxtaposes a line or
two of imagery-laden poetry with a page repeating the names of trees over and
over in various patterns. The lines “Erasing its memories of pearly black
thoughts and calling this labor. She was being paid.” are paired with “White
Willow Ivy Willow Heather…” Though the connective meaning between the two texts
escapes me, there is clearly author purpose and intent here. One juxtaposition could
give me the incentive to work through the piece to try to find that hidden
intent, however this arrangement goes on for seventy-nine pages. The effect
becomes mind-numbing and all desire to find meaning is lost.
There
are a few ‘more conventional’ pieces in The
Book of Feral Flora and I did enjoy the first part of the story “One Heart
Is Better Than No Heart: emerging buds” in which the archetypal Hansel and Gretel
story is examined and reimagined. I say first part, though, because the story
repeats itself. As in, all eight pages are reprinted. The problem with this
repetition is the same found in “Short Stones”: repetition serving a purpose is
one thing, but here it feels like artifice.
Perhaps
this type of work is just not for me. In finishing The Book of Feral Flora, I felt as if I had missed something. As if
the pieces had not quite connected. I suspect that hardcore fans of
experimental literature would argue with me here, and I hope they do. I hope
that intrepid readers can find the meaning in Ackerman’s book as she intends it
to be found. I hope that this collection finds its way into the hands of
readers who appreciate Ackerman’s conceptual forms and ambitious experiments
with communication. There is definitely something
here- I’m just not sure what it is. (July 2015)
Reviewer bio: Steph Post is the
author of the debut novel A Tree Born Crooked. Her short fiction has
most recently appeared in Haunted Waters: From the Depths, The Round-Up
and Stephen King’s Contemporary Classics. She currently lives, writes
and teaches writing in St. Petersburg, Florida.
