In Another Castle

by Matthew Shindell

Poetry. IN ANOTHER CASTLE introduces a unique American voice to poetry. Matthew Shindell, whose publications include American Letters and Commentary, The American Poetry Review, Black Warrior Review, FENCE, Hayden's Ferry Review, and others, mixes the intellectual with the absurd to create a world that both parallels and penetrates our own. Dean Young writes, "Let us praise Matt Shindell for offering us another castle where the ferocity of the imagination bedazzles." Shindell's fearless book offers a view of our world through the same darkly comic and pioneering lens as Kafka. Norman Dubie echoes this observation: "There is sadness here and the brittle music of Kafka's decisions in language." Indeed, the centerpiece poem, "Two Jokes About Bears," reveals the enormous breadth and scope of Shindell's powers and places him into the pantheon of important new poets to watch.

Genres: Poetry

104 pages, Paperback

First published November 1, 2008

About the author

Matthew Shindell lives and writes in La Jolla, California. He is a PhD student in History of Science and Science Studies at UC San Diego. He holds a BS (1999) and an MS (2004) from Arizona State University’s Center for Biology and Society, where his work focused on the social and historical study of science. He holds an MFA in poetry from the University of Iowa Writers’ Workshop (2001).

Shindell's first full-length book of poems In Another Castle will be published in October 2008 by Three Candles Press.

Shindell's poems have been included in Digerati: 20 Contemporary Poets in the Virtual World , edited by Steve Mueske (3 Candles Press, 2006), and The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel , edited by Reb Livingston (No Tell Books, 2006). One of his essays was included in Half/Life: Jew-ish Tales from Interfaith Homes , edited by Laurel Snyder (Soft Skull Press, 2006).

Shindell's limited edition chapbook, Were something to happen it would be both funny and interesting, was published by the Galom Press in 2001.

Shindell's poems have appeared in American Letters and Commentary, The American Poetry Review, Black Warrior Review, FENCE, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Jubilat, The Melic Review, No Tell Motel, Northwestern Review, Octopus Magazine, Phoenix Downtown Magazine, Pleiades, Tarpaulin Sky, and Unpleasant Event Schedule.

Reviews

[Ian Sims]

Hoe. Lee. Hell.

Holy Hell.

This was the worst book of poetry I've ever picked up. My statement may seem hyperbolic, but allow me to present Exhibit A, "Visit":

Death: Did you leave your hat
in my house? Blue felt, brim,
red satin lining. I know
it's not mine. I've always
looked stupid in hats.

Cool.

But this isn't even the worst of it. When Matthew Shindell is trying to write poetry, it's only terrible. When he's trying to force an intellectual conversation in his "interlude," it's extremely terrible. Shindell's "Two Jokes About Bears (an interlude...) was the worst thing I've read in 2017. And this is a year where the Trump Administration has been published regularly.

The author is without a doubt the kind of person that considers himself an intellectual, but he's definitely never noticed how quickly people run out of the room when he enters.

Unless you run a Tumblr about the death of poetry, avoid this publication at all costs.

I leave you with the first page of the interlude, or (for my purposes) Exhibit B in the People V. Matthew Shindell. While reading this passage, you may notice a feeling of nausea and find yourself thinking, "I don't want to live on this planet anymore," but I assure you this is normal. Joy and faith in humanity will return after a good rest. Good luck and godspeed.

I
The Fork that's Already Broken Our Path; Realism; the Absurd; Narration

If you can, imagine a found set of instructions. Liken them to these that are in front of you now if it helps. Vague, the instructions offer two options: two jokes—one begins with a panda walking into a bar, one with a hunter tracking a brown bear in the woods.

These are not really instructions, but they do imply a beginning—two beginnings—two possibilities, if you'll choose to see it this way. (Forgive me but I presume to know you.) You will want to infer a direction for your narrative from these descriptions. Here is your voice—ever-sensible and aesthetically-concerned:

Q. To which of the two jokes am I initially attracted?

And here is mine:

A. Base your decision on verisimilitude. You will choose the second joke.

Not to say you don't appreciate or even love to dwell in the absurd. You're just not convinced that this line of absurdity is worth pursuing, particularly in the "walks into a bar" form. You have your limits and rightly so. You put yourself in the place of the bartender first, instinctively rejecting the absurdity of a panda in your bar. You freeze, think you are dreaming—or are you too jaded for this? You wonder if it might not be a man in costume. Maybe I'm pulling a trick, and I should know better than to try it on you.

Verisimilitude—making good on the promise of finding a bear in the woods—draws you into the second joke. You're wise of the economy of nature and know that the bear is exactly where it should be. And, though you may have never seen a bear in the wild, education and popular idiom tell you where bears are to be found and how they go about their business.

[Jimmy]

I liked "Through the Walls", "Bear Caught", "But Emerson Says...", "Speech of Artificio", "West", "Sidekick", "The Willow", "A Bird's Head...", and "Made Easy".