Heimat

by Quincy R. Lehr

Heimat is an ambitious book-length poetic sequence, by turns funny and witty, tragic and profound, lyrical and narrative. Taking its cues from sources ranging from the great Modernist long poems of the twentieth century to the Asterix comic books and the city of New York itself, Heimat explores what it means to belong to the American nation. At the heart of the poem is the journey of Ernst Lehr, the author's German-speaking great-grandfather who abandoned his family and the Lutheran ministry during World War I to fight for the American Army. He never returned. The book is structured by an awareness of time and our relation to events past and present, both historical and literary, and it uses a virtuosic mix of rhymed and metered verse and free verse in its complex tapestry. Kevin Higgins writes, "Quincy Lehr's Heimat is a sprawling triumph of a poem. In a time when the uptight one-page lyric has achieved something approaching full-spectrum dominance, Lehr challenges contemporary poetic fashions in a most fundamental way. Heimat is a political poem of rare intelligence, daring, and formal rigor. Like The Waste Land, it wanders history and the world—from Battery Park to Dingle in the Kerry Gaeltacht—in search of truths. It is the poem T.S. Eliot might have written if he'd been a disappointed Trotskyist from Oklahoma." Julie Kane "No poet since T. S. Eliot has been able to fuse a panoramic vision of history, a bead on popular culture, a biting satirical intelligence, and a soaring lyrical gift like Quincy R. Lehr. Heimat is Lehr's Waste Land, updated to the present moment where "The modern's 'post-.' The culture's 'multi-' now, / capitalism's shaky, and it's 'late.' / The cast, though, stays on stage, the final bow / has yet to come for this, the nation-state." The sheer scope of this work leaves the rest of us contemporary poets in the red-dirt dust of Lehr's native Oklahoma."

78 pages, Paperback

First published June 4, 2014

About the author

Quincy R. Lehr was raised in Norman, Oklahoma and lives in Brooklyn, New York. His work has appeared in print and online venues in the U.S., UK, Ireland, Australia, and the Czech Republic, including American Arts Quarterly, Cadenza, The Chimaera, Crannog, The Dark Horse, Rattle, Measure, The Raintown Review, and The Shit Creek Review. He is the author of several books of poetry, most recently The Dark Lord of the Tiki Bar (Measure Press, 2015) and is the associate editor of The Raintown Review.

Reviews

[Eileen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't know/understand all of Lehr's references in this book-length poem. But the language is clever and bold, and I like the use of rhyme.

[Jeff Holt · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Heimat”: A Philosophical Journey

This is the book in which Quincy Lehr weds his knowledge as a historian with his gifts as a poet. “Heimat,” which loosely translates to “homeland,” is everything that previous reviewers have emphasized: epic, funny, educational, satirical, sad, personal, and lyrical. At the same time “Heimat” is philosophical, and while the poem certainly raises more questions than it answers, an exploration of at least a couple of important questions could prove useful.

There are three key phrases that Lehr repeats, frequently in italics, throughout the poem. One of these, “There’s no way out,” stands out from the other two because Lehr closes the poem by repeating it four times. The previous stanzas, which include the line “Every urge points to escape,” (59) set the tone for this repeated phrase as frustration, at least. The other time in the poem when Lehr employs the phrase “There’s no way out” is during the Intermission, a point in the poem when he is speaking speculatively, at length, to a theater patron who is, of course, at intermission. The passage deserves to be quoted at length:

Will we detect the snare,
the hint of something rotten in the air,
the lingering effect
when the lights are off and the gallery is swept?
You can take your doubt
and go home if you wish. There’s no way out.

There’s no way out, since this is not
an exercise in pure escape—
a lukewarm song that thinks it’s hot,
a family gaffe that’s caught on tape......
This is a form of history.
This is the part that we deserve.
This is our joy and misery.
Sit down, and for God’s sake, observe. (31)

Lehr's exhortation to the patron to observe is part of a philosophical stance that he has adopted in regards to historical, and present, events—which tend to merge in “Heimat”-- from the opening of Part II of the poem, when he tells us “It’s in the observation, not the action . . . . The problem’s hardly certain / except in observation.” As readers, we don’t have to wonder why Lehr takes this stance, as he tells us quite explicitly in the following lines:

in an observer’s blank and steady eye
that searches, not for things that have their uses,
but for the subtle lie

that even observation can’t dispel
but only note in hope of preservation
of something that will outlast a vacation
or office trauma. (9)

For Lehr, at least early on in the poem, adopting a stance of observation thus holds a promise for the greatest range of vision, and particularly of seeing the subtle lies in people’s actions.

Philosophically, Lehr lets his own awareness of the problems with this position be known through comedy. Late in “Heimat,” he places himself into the poem among his motley crew of historical figures and has them demand that he sing lead in a pop song in which they are all participating. He replies to them, “Look! I don’t sing lead, / or not this time. My line is observation . . .” Moments later, one of Lehr’s strongest men of action, August Willich, punches him, apparently disgusted by what he views as a wimpy response to a call to action.

Perhaps this punch by Lehr’s quintessential man of action represents the poet acknowledging a simple truth. People of action, for all of their imperfections, remind us that it is critical to act now, both politically and personally, simply for survival. Or perhaps Lehr is going deeper than this, and acknowledging that the apparent dichotomy between action and observation is a false one. For on the one hand, the observer alters everything that he observes. And on the other hand, if the observer is a poet, he is acting constantly, translating his observations through his own perceptual set into verse. In any case, this observer certainly lays no claim to doing anything but beginning to poke at the philosophical questions embodied in ”Heimat.”