Fiona Hile

Mosaically Speaking: Pieces of Lionel Fogarty’s Poetics

As the Hong Kong riots reach their sixth consecutive week, I’m emailing a friend at Hong Kong University who writes about liberty and subjection.

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Introduction to Elena Gomez’s Body of Work

There’s a difference between occupying a seemingly unceasing parade of subject positions through a kind of colonising, thieving, dissipatory borderlessness … and inhabiting them as a form of aesthetic and political revolt.

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Sandra D’Urso Interviews Fiona Hile

To read Hile’s poetry is to encounter what it means to be a desiring subject in a contemporary world. Her use of vernacular recalls and transforms the details of everyday life, while gesturing toward the grand themes of a European philosophical tradition.

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I was already quite a few years into a creative writing PhD titled ‘Generic Engineering’ and flailing around quite spectacularly in a galaxy of words when an academic friend, perhaps hoping to spare me the indignity of a completed thesis and potential employment, flipped to the middle of the 526-page book he was reading and wordlessly pointed to a single sentence. ‘Due to a predilection whose origin I will leave it up to the reader to determine,’ he read, ‘I will choose the symbol ♀ for this inscription.’

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Submission to Cordite 83: MATHEMATICS

MathematicsThe invention of transfinite set theory by the 19th Century German mathematician, Georg Cantor, hinges the romantic conception of a boundless infinite to a post-Cantorian description of an infinity of infinities.

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dictate your every word, you bright nymphs mistake the possible. Thank you for the plangent note, the sacrifices that were not at all intended as an offering. The snare you prepared with the guile of an anxious siren. If I …

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Every star has its double, different coloured blood cometing at length. How you will defeat me, with a scythe or a ladder, a hoked up piece of trash untucked beneath a raging plinth. Your feelings, juiced on perforated, in which …

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Fiona Hile Reviews Lionel Fogarty

Lionel G. Fogarty is an indigenous Australian poet who is recognised for the excavation of a poetic space in which, as Michael Brennan has written, ‘his community and culture is recuperated and asserted’ whilst ‘dominant discourses, both political and poetic’ are subverted and destabilised. These qualities make Fogarty’s work difficult to review in a context in which the status of indigenous literature remains, for some institutions at least, seemingly unapproachable.

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Review Short: Andrew Burke’s One Hour Seeds Another and Nicola Bowery’s married to this ground

Addressing the quotidian in writing is an ongoing practice for many poets. Andrew Burke’s One Hour Seeds Another and Nicola Bowery’s married to this ground approach this preoccupation with a robust commitment and urge to render it lucidly, but each is in conversation with different lineages. Burke’s cycle is cross-fertilised with jazz and folk music, with Hindu and Buddhist references, with playful abstraction, but it is the intentional elegiac timbre in this collection that lingers in the reader’s mind.

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The Satisfaction of Speech

Stretched out across the selfish wool table, I fix on a mood in the high key of you, twiddle my hi-viz wedding ring and laugh at the way rhyme and metre protect us from happiness. Angels’ tears fill the rivers …

Posted in 46.1: MELBOURNE | Tagged

Review Short: Fiona Hile’s Novelties

NoveltiesIn Lacanian theory, ‘matheme’ and ‘patheme’ share an interesting correlation. While the matheme is, obviously, on the side of science, the patheme is part of the ‘logics’ of affect, whereby the body is an effect of language. Matheme and patheme don’t immediately have anything to do with sexual difference or ‘mechanistic’ versus ‘organicist’ understandings of the universe. There is nothing mysterious about the patheme. Rather, the patheme could be thought of as what the poem does to the poet’s body analogously to what a matheme does to a mathematician’s body: force it to work and, in some cases, give it pain.

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(Notes from a Lecture Delivered by a Former English Poet Laureate) At the age of six you were a bloody little genius Bauxite was the only word you could spell But I knew the year of the Battle of Hastings …

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