Monday, 17 March 2025

Review by Lee Wright of "Father's Father's Father" by Dane Holt



Father’s Father’s Father, the debut poetry collection from Dane Holt, explores the shaping and eventual disillusionment of masculinity, as well as the lingering effects of tragedy. The opening poem, titled "John Cena," delves into the predictable patterns of professional wrestling, where audiences anticipate the familiar rise-and-fall of matches that provide the structure and comfort many of us craved as adolescents. Cena represents a scripted form of heroism—akin to figures like Superman or John Rambo. But what if we looked beyond that manufactured persona? Could the image of the all-American hero have become stale? Is Holt suggesting that Cena’s image is tied to a version of America that overlooks its own complexities and contradictions? Rather than a "fallen" hero, perhaps Cena is one who’s now on his knees, wrestling not just with opponents, but with his own myth. 

Holt belongs to a dynamic new wave of Northern Irish poets, and the collection gives the impression of him wandering, collecting fragments, and observing what causes them to bend or break. In the poem "Humphrey Bogart," the speaker begins by recounting tales passed down by his grandfather, describing a time when men were characterised by a rugged, almost invincible self-sufficiency. Holt uses an image of a man striking a match with his thumb, waking up to a lit cigarette, and performing daily tasks with a cigarette in hand, evoking an idealised version of masculinity—one that is calm, composed. The grandfather’s memories of the past are a source of nostalgia, and The African Queen (the film referred to in the poem) fills the absence of verbal confirmation as part of their understanding of love. There’s also an image of birds filling the sky, a striking conclusion to the poem, which suggests an omnipresence of the departed, both in film and in life. All the poems contemplate a form of sadness (though not without comedy). They look at the consequences of a life that doesn’t get the chance to be redeemed, expendable people of deep emptiness, those who struggle to pick up their lives. As Holt writes in the poem, "Seven Esenin Versions": 

         I cannot deceive myself: something 
         heavy troubles my heart.   

This reader feels it too: poetry is where attention to the tender and the brittle began. 

 

About the reviewer
Lee Wright holds an MA in Creative Writing and is currently pursuing a PhD, focusing on the coming-of-age memoir and film analysis. His fiction and nonfiction have been published in Fairlight Books, Headstuff.com, époque press, and Cigarette Fire Literary Magazine.


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