{"id":481,"date":"2021-10-11T11:34:25","date_gmt":"2021-10-11T11:34:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/?p=481"},"modified":"2022-03-27T07:18:36","modified_gmt":"2022-03-27T07:18:36","slug":"review-history-of-forgetfulness-by-shahe-mankerian","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/?p=481","title":{"rendered":"REVIEW: \u2018History of Forgetfulness\u2019 By Shahe Mankerian"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Shah\u00e9 Mankerian\u2019s debut collection, History of Forgetfulness<\/em>, recalls his childhood in 1975 Beirut through a series of shocking and heartfelt observations which depict the horrors of growing up in a warzone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The poet\u2019s battleground exists on the streets where he plays, at school, at home\u2014even in his bed at night, where monsters lurk. Indeed, issues of abuse, domestic violence, loss of innocence and puberty all feature heavily in the turmoil encountered by our subject.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The book opens with \u2018Educating the Son\u2019, and a stanza which prepares the reader for the continuing juxtaposition of the mundane everyday with the horrific circumstances the poet finds himself in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n

I got my schooling at the morgue:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

a summer job, my mother thought,<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

would keep the streets out of her son.<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Ready yourself, dear Reader, for the details to unfold\u2014the \u2018faceless men\u2019, \u2018their faces like shoes with no soles\u2019:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

and mothers who, like doves,<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

descended slowly on their sons\u2019<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

decapitated corpses.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The poet writes beautifully, even when what he observes is marked by darkness and terror, as in \u2018Before the Deluge\u2019:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ruptured copper pipes filled bomb craters<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

like cereal bowls. Bones and body parts floated like<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

cornflakes.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Here, the child’s eyes (through which we observe) and their innocence help the reader to somehow relate to these atrocities. But the real fear seems to be of the abuse he suffers when \u2018Father wanted to speak \/ with his belt\u2019 in \u2018Baker\u2019s Son\u2019:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I closed my lids\u2014<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

tight\u2014to fake sleep.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When he reached<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

for my covers,<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

the hair of his hand<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

brushed my face.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

By teasing the senses so subtly, Mankerian summons the dreadful feeling of what this simple gesture means.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A large part of the poet\u2019s writing focuses upon growing up. In \u2018Moses\u2019, boys target a nun called Sister Francis, throwing rotten eggs at her and stealing her shoes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On Saturdays, she disappeared. Once we followed<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

her to the basement of the chapel. There, she lay<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

on a bed of thorns and cried all night. We stopped<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

throwing things at her and never stole her shoes again.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The \u2018normality\u2019 of life continues as our subject attempts to navigate puberty, as shown in \u2018Madame Bshara\u2019s Black Skirt\u2019:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her ruler poked me.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stared at the maroon<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

lipstick and the chalk<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

prints around her breasts.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is our subject\u2019s reality: the typical everyday contentions and life lessons amidst chaos, as people attempt to navigate the violence, lack of food, and have the resilience of their faith truly put to the test.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our windowpanes shattered. The mosque collapsed<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

on the bridge. The violin broke from the neck.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The eggplants charred. Brother bled on the couch.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I waited for the rug to magically rise<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

and take flight into the night.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In this poem, the child holds on to the hopes and dreams of innocence in the final couplet of \u2018Dear Mr. President:\u00ad\u00ad\u00ad\u00ad\u2019 (above) \u2013 until experience teaches otherwise, as shown in \u2018The Fall of the Welder\u2019:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Don\u2019t laugh, don\u2019t cover<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

yourself anymore, because pleasure,<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

like a popsicle, melts before you eat it.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To buy ‘The History of Forgetfulness’ from Fly on the Wall Press, click here.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Shah\u00e9 Mankerian\u2019s debut collection, History of Forgetfulness, recalls his childhood in 1975 Beirut through a series of shocking and heartfelt observations which depict the horrors of growing up in a warzone. The poet\u2019s battleground exists on the streets where he plays, at school, at home\u2014even in his bed at night, where monsters lurk. Indeed, issues of abuse, domestic violence, loss of innocence and puberty all feature heavily in the turmoil encountered by our subject. The book opens with \u2018Educating the Son\u2019, and a stanza which prepares the reader for the continuing juxtaposition of the mundane everyday with the horrific circumstances the poet finds himself in. I got my schooling at the morgue: a summer job, my mother thought, would keep the streets out of her son. Ready yourself, dear Reader, for the details to unfold\u2014the \u2018faceless men\u2019, \u2018their faces like shoes with no soles\u2019: and mothers who, like doves, descended slowly on their sons\u2019 decapitated corpses. The poet writes beautifully, even when what he observes is marked by darkness and terror, as in \u2018Before the Deluge\u2019: Ruptured copper pipes filled bomb craters like cereal bowls. Bones and body parts floated like cornflakes. Here, the child’s eyes (through which we observe) […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":482,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[6],"tags":[54,27,53],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/vicpickup.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/10\/history-of-forgetfulness.jpg?fit=353%2C528&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/481"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=481"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/481\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":486,"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/481\/revisions\/486"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/482"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=481"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=481"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vicpickup.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=481"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}