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This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations Marc Vincenz Tom Bradley 9781935084723 Books

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Marc Vincenz has achieved the virtuosic feat of rendering homage to The Waste Land while simultaneously engendering a love epic of nine hundred lines. Vincenz enters and plunders the minds of Alexandrian gnostics, Celtic Druids, medieval alchemists, magi if the Iranian Plateau, and tantric adepts of the Indus Valley.

Meanwhile, Tom Bradley has annotated this book in the strange way he did Epigonesia and Felicia's Nose. He strip-mines the pseudepigrapha and snuffles into Mariolatry's odd pastel nooks, where the sense of smell prevails over all others. As a precaution, Bradley doesn't neglect to conjure the crone initiatrix of the Vama Marga who teaches prophets, seers and revelators to control their gag reflex. Gradually, something like a novel materializes among the endnotes. A strange figure emerges Siegfried Tolliot, who, in 1958, shared intimacy with Ezra Pound at Saint Elizabeth's insane asylum in Washington, D. C.

The result is that rarity of rarities a new genre, situated in real time as the poet's bright lyricism contends with the cackling paranoia of his annotator. It all culminates in a 300-item bibliography and an index of 900 entries, citing everyone from Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa to Zosimos of Panopolis.

Praise for This Wasted Land

Nothing like it. A transcendence. Completely novel. Will be remembered forever. And that is an understatement. I didn't think giants still walked the earth. I know about comedy, wit, multiple allusions... but I didn't think anyone was still around who could do what Vincenz and Bradley did in This Wasted Land... delight after delight...
—Joe Green, author of The Limerick Homer

A palatial homage to Eliot; ludic cruise through Pound's errata. Ideally epic, This Wasted Land preens and pummels conceptual imagery into a sacred profane realization of feminine figure manifesting appearances in a spindle of eras. The letter leaves no wand unwaved, no veil unraised, no, the fearless love song curiously transfigures her extreme essences throughout time. This is transnational and transcontinental muse. A meditative investigation with rare sourcing, scat. Instead of the traditional, Vincenz rips it up with careening force, rhythmic gales unleashing the unexpected. Freely loosening rodents, pestilence, while he borrows the familiar beautiful, iconic then couples comfort with foul, casts off ashen and machinated debris, all the while experimenting his way through encoded episodic verse, gaining poetic perversity in annotated wanderlust, and topsy turvy embrace. This isn't the love song we thought we came for—it's the chase. Bradley's multilayered, alchemical annotations, anchor this book—the poem, the notes, the expansive bibliography – deliver a rare multiverse of a read. Phenomenal, scintillating.
—Allison Hedge Coke, Winner of the American Book Award and author of Blood Run

From 'the dimness of that Portobello antique shop' to 'purple-haired Cornish coach tourists', from 'laminated tabletops and the mountain ranges beyond Chengdu' to 'those gondalieri, wild ones with their coppery manes', Marc Vincenz conjures, with ostensible effortlessness, memories one is aghast to realize one scarcely knew were there, rather in the manner (however unlikely the comparison) of Somerset Maugham's The Moon and Sixpence. Playful but pensive incongruities—a 'judicial right of crenellation', the flick of a stub to the floor, 'disgusted at the lack of ashtrays'—do that rare thing of poetry responsibly riddling the reader. Tom Bradley's copious and critical annotations give us the capricious erudition of a T. S. Eliot in March Hare guise, whilst delivering such mirthfulness as would befit Boccaccio. In Vincenz's own words, 'the mind reels, tied to a mast, the heart burns, roped up.'
—Umit Singh Dhuga, The Battersea Review

This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations Marc Vincenz Tom Bradley 9781935084723 Books

A Review of Marc Vincenz’s This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations

Gerber, in the eighth century, is known as their principal chymical writer; he is said to have composed five hundred volumes, almost every one of which is lost.

– History of the Moors in Spain

Illusion is the first of all pleasures. – Voltaire

*

This Wasted Land, bearing the subtitle And Its Chymical Illuminations, is a rendered gestalt of high parody. It is where the sacred and profane coalesce in some bastardly amalgam, chymically turbocharged by the Holy Grail of the feminine mystique. The accomplished, albeit surly, annotator punctuates this book with erudite verses through the episodic traipse, teasingly lifting the veil on Love’s Pursuit, requited or not, through a conjuring of many previously sojourned-in places. This collaboration between Vincenz the Poet and Bradley the Annotator is a “virtuosic feat”, and a worthy parody of much academic pretension.

With nary a quibble, what is unexpectedly striking about This Wasted Land, perhaps so indicated by its “bogus scholarship and licentious free-association”, such as it might be; and given the annotator’s own sweeping awareness of the irrelevant details which purportedly inhabit Vincenz’s poem and are so fraught with “numerous alchemists, eunuchs, seers, madmen and poets”, is that this text seeks to arrive at the threshold of Love, as do all the great inspired epics, and it behooves us, the intrepid re-readers, who are asked to feast upon the great mysteries uncovered therein, to set aside our critical filters, and join up with The Poet and his nemesis Annotator, to traverse the far, and near, wasted lands of our collective imaginations, as we seek the chimera of our own redemptive pursuits.

Product details Paperback 244 pages Publisher Lavender Ink (April 1, 2015) Language English ISBN-10 1935084720

Tags : This Wasted Land: and Its Chymical Illuminations [Marc Vincenz, Tom Bradley] on Amazon.com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Marc Vincenz has achieved the virtuosic feat of rendering homage to <em>The Waste Land</em> while simultaneously engendering a love epic of nine hundred lines. Vincenz enters and plunders the minds of Alexandrian gnostics,Marc Vincenz, Tom Bradley,This Wasted Land: and Its Chymical Illuminations,Lavender Ink,1935084720,POETRY General
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This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations Marc Vincenz Tom Bradley 9781935084723 Books Reviews

A case of junk being independently published and (likely) reviewed by friends and family. In a book of 250 pages there are only about 40 of the author's "poem" and the rest are notes on the poem and a bibliography. What a waste of money. Aside from not understanding what the book is actually about, it is confusing, difficult to read, and since the author is a nobody, why does he warant 200 pages of annotation on a less-than-40-page poem?? Senseless and meaningless and poorly written. Don't waste time or money or effort on this. I mistakenly bought it thinking it was about the famous Pound poem and it's not. It's just some guy with poor writing skills pretending he has a publisher backing him. So disappointed.
Book Review
This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations
Marc Vincenz with annotations by Tom Bradley
Lavender Ink ~ April 2015
240 pages

“And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at the
And fishermen hold flowers”
Desolation Row ~ Bob Dylan 1965

This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations is a ponderous tome indeed. I say that because it truly caused me to ponder and I haven’t stopped pondering since I read the 902 line poem for the first time. In this age of attention deficit sound bites, ad-driven internet blogger journalism, text messaging, instant messaging, tweeting, and “literature” as amuse-bouche single, bite-sized hors d'œuvres, here is one of the books that cannot be lightly skimmed or accessed by a quick read. It requires and deserves attention, cross referencing, rereading, and as I said, pondering. It is copiously annotated with over 300 entries by Tom Bradley and includes a 23 page bibliography, a comprehensive index and one of the most outrageous and confounding “Afterwords” I’ve ever read by one Siegfried Tolliot, whose very existence is in question, but I don’t want to spoil the fun by saying too much about him now. I will say this, however. This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations is a masterpiece collaboration between Marc Vincenz and Tom Bradley.

A trenchant shot across Tom Bradley’s bow from the mysterious Siegfried Tolliot

“I suspect such peccadillos are not all that have kept him out from behind the professional podium. Displaying what can only be described as flippant disregard for intellectual rigor, Bradley has sunk alongside T.S. Eliot into ‘remarkable expositions of bogus scholarship.’ He indulges in deliberate non-sequitur, which he no doubt dignifies as ‘impressionistic analysis.”

And some sardonic scholarship from Tom Bradley regarding Siegfried Tolliot

“Tolliot showed up in the ‘schizy ward’ on the rounded heels of the author of Howl after the latter had orally primed old native Idahoan……the priapic eunuch put himself into position to lend Ezra Pound a carton of Kool mentholated cigarettes…..”

The book is a multi-layered opus of brilliant prose, lyrical poetry, erudite scholarship, high culture, low culture, acerbic wit, droll humor, high parody and satirical exchanges between the author, the annotator and the mysterious Siegfried Tolliot. This Wasted Land is a hybrid of ekphrastic parody, tribute and scholarly research. To be honest, my initial encounter with the book left me confused and befuddled. In fact, I wasn’t sure what was a “put-on” and what was actually serious. There are mysterious passages in German and French and a dizzying array of far reaching annotations that include links to the Rosicrucians, the First Golden Age, alchemy, the occult, magick, the Annunaki, the Nephilim, and enough other esoteric references for a PhD dissertation. There’s even a “disambiguation” of the musician Manfred Mann and his classic hit from the 60’s British Invasion “Doo Wah Diddy Diddy.” The old country song by Skeeter Davis “I Forgot More Than You’ll Ever Know” came to mind as I remembered so many historical references that had been relegated to the dustbin of my own liberal arts education. If you are willing to dive headfirst into this grand literary smorgasbord and pay close attention, you will emerge with an updated education in classical humanities.
Here is an example of some of Vincenz’s gorgeous lyrical poetry
“blue heaven begins to hum a far less wretched tune
of rain and chymical sorcery, coercing tubers and roots

to squirm within sallow layers – and serpents twisting
beyond the line of sight; thawing toads seek beguiling light,
yes, even millipedes tapping into steady locomotion.”

In order to understand a parody, it is necessary to understand the actual subject of the parody and context of the satire. This sent me back to revisit T.S. Eliot’s actual poem (The Wasteland) and the role that Ezra Pound played in “co-creating” the work with his editing, notes, corrections, and annotations. As important as Eliot and Pound were to Modern literature, I was thoroughly dismayed by their politics, homophobia, and anti-Semitism and found it hard to separate their personal viewpoints from their art. But it did help lead me to a greater understanding of the references in This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations.
Vincenz’s poem closely follows the actual structure of The Wasteland and Bradley plays Pound to Vincenz’s Eliot. The work closely parallels things that Eliot (and Pound) did with blending language by interjecting French and German passages, written (“dead”) languages of ancient Greek and Latin and the concept of poetry as spoken word and song.
It’s important to note that this is not madcap comedy. It’s sophisticated and nuanced parody; but wrapped beneath this cloak of parody is a very real work of art. This Wasted Land is a virtuosic display of language and historical context. It is a work that is unique and totally new while still honoring the lineage from which it comes. This Wasted Land is a work about alchemy as a transformative agent and the allegorical journey to find the meaning of existence. It invokes James Joyce’s (and Joseph Campbell's) monomyth, the hero's journey and the classic archetypes of ancient myth Ulysses, Perseus, Heracles, Achilles, Odysseus, Orpheus. It is also about the pursuit of our shadow selves and the realization that we are the ones that we have been waiting for.
I was reminded of the critical roles played by Eliot and Pound as Modernists charged with pushing the wheels of culture forward and one of Pound’s most famous exhortations “Make it new.” Vincenz and Bradley certainly have taken that to heart and succeeded in doing that by using The Waste Land as a springboard for This Wasted Land. In fact, they’re using it as a trampoline for their dazzling literary acrobatics. While Eliot’s poem ends with the Sanskrit prayer invocation “Shantih shantih shantih” (Peace, peace, peace), Vincenz references Eliot’s notes from The Wasteland in the final passage and then ends his poem with “Kanti! O blessed one. Kanti! Cuckoo!” (“Patience, Forbearance, Forgiveness”) Something we would all do well to remember.
A Review of Marc Vincenz’s This Wasted Land and Its Chymical Illuminations

Gerber, in the eighth century, is known as their principal chymical writer; he is said to have composed five hundred volumes, almost every one of which is lost.

– History of the Moors in Spain

Illusion is the first of all pleasures. – Voltaire

*

This Wasted Land, bearing the subtitle And Its Chymical Illuminations, is a rendered gestalt of high parody. It is where the sacred and profane coalesce in some bastardly amalgam, chymically turbocharged by the Holy Grail of the feminine mystique. The accomplished, albeit surly, annotator punctuates this book with erudite verses through the episodic traipse, teasingly lifting the veil on Love’s Pursuit, requited or not, through a conjuring of many previously sojourned-in places. This collaboration between Vincenz the Poet and Bradley the Annotator is a “virtuosic feat”, and a worthy parody of much academic pretension.

With nary a quibble, what is unexpectedly striking about This Wasted Land, perhaps so indicated by its “bogus scholarship and licentious free-association”, such as it might be; and given the annotator’s own sweeping awareness of the irrelevant details which purportedly inhabit Vincenz’s poem and are so fraught with “numerous alchemists, eunuchs, seers, madmen and poets”, is that this text seeks to arrive at the threshold of Love, as do all the great inspired epics, and it behooves us, the intrepid re-readers, who are asked to feast upon the great mysteries uncovered therein, to set aside our critical filters, and join up with The Poet and his nemesis Annotator, to traverse the far, and near, wasted lands of our collective imaginations, as we seek the chimera of our own redemptive pursuits.