ODU Literary Festival - Crossing Boundaries

The 28th Annual Literary Festival was held at ODU from October 3rd through 7th. Among the events, Sheri Reynolds’ read from her newest novel, The Firefly Cloak, and there was a presentation by poet Thomas Sayers Ellis. Both Reynolds and Ellis did much more than simply read from their works, crossing the boundary into performance, with both of their presentations designed as much to entertain as to inform.

Reynolds uses vivid imagery in her writing. In an early scene from her book, Tessa Lee, a little girl, watches the “dusty ghosts” behind the truck as she rides along a country road. Later, Tessa Lee listens as her mother and her mother’s boyfriend crack open pop-top cans, making “the beer hiss.” Not only does she breathe life into inanimate objects, crossing the boundary between real life and fiction, but she also crosses the boundary between the world as seen through the eyes of adults and the world as seen through the eyes of a child.

Tom Ellis was introduced as a “leader in the poetic insurgency.” As is often true of poetry, Ellis’ writing leaves a lot of room for interpretation, or as he might put it, “more places to hide in the shade between stanzas.” Ellis combines humor with social commentary, and often makes his point with repetition. Like Reynolds, Ellis has the ability to paint a picture with his words, effectively making the leap across the boundary between the words on the page and the images in the minds of his audience. He writes of Andre, a cross-dressing musician. “What a drag,” he says. He then goes on to give Andre’s rationale for his choice of wardrobe, which happens to be a bridal gown. “A good wedding starts in the department store and works its way into the photo album.” Andre crosses boundaries, and so does a wedding dress.

Though Reynolds’ book is written from the point of view of three different characters, she is at her best when she reads from Tessa Lee’s section. With her southern accent and the sweet voice she intones for Tessa Lee, Reynolds transports us to the little girl’s world and, like Ellis, paints a picture with her words. A teenage Tessa Lee meets her mother’s boss, and describes the man’s hair as looking “like a rusty Brillo pad.” The man, in turn, looks at Tessa Lee, “like she was a raccoon in his garbage.”

Ellis, too, relies on metaphor, and explains such images require destruction, crossing from the reality of what we see to the poetic analysis of what it could mean. As Ellis introduced a poem about a church, one that he read like a preacher giving a sermon, he explained that he had asked that the lights be turned down so the atmosphere would be “more like a church, more like a party.” Perhaps my favorite metaphor, however, was when he described those who walk through life unseen as being “like the scratched instrumental side of a 45.”

Reynolds comes from the quiet, though not necessarily peaceful, countryside of the south, and the “multiple tensions” that bubble beneath the surface begin to boil over in her latest novel. Ellis, on the other hand, grew up in Washington, D.C. The term “multiple tensions” is one that he coined for his own hometown, describing it as being a “percussive town.” He captures the rhythm of the city in his poetry, and it is amplified by his performance. Both writers cross the boundaries between the words on the page and the living, breathing essence of those about whom they write, and in so doing, they invite the audience to cross boundaries, as well.