Melike Inci: Igor doesn't write poems, he does them
IGOR DOESN’T WRITE POEMS, HE DOES THEMI’ve said so many times: “You must read Igor Isakovski’s poems!”, but I’ve never said why. I guess it is time.We do not follow contemporary poets. Especially, in recent years, the interest in poetry has decreased. We know so little about new poets after “Second New”, if we have not gotten stuck in the “Strange” era. With this reality inside our borders, we don’t get a chance to know poets from abroad.I’ve come across Igor Isakovski’s poems thanks to the launch gathering for his book “F.ck You, Isakovski” in May. I had a chance to hear the poems from him in his own language, with which I am not even a little bit familiar. Nonetheless, I had a strange feeling that I understood what he was saying. When Gökçenur Ç, who translated his poems into Turkish, started to read, in a way, understanding became touching.The first poem selected for the book “Looking for an Inspiration?” is like a guide to Isakovski’s poetry. He is inspired from the suffering caused by his awareness, rebel in times of defeat, and things he can hold on to when he hits the bottom, his journeys, love and passion, eligible literature and also more importantly, in my opinion, the doubt in himself. When reading with these elements in hand, you easily come to understand the source of the real sorrow in his poems. Yet because of this, the caress of your cheek by his lines becomes, in an instant, a sudden smack. It is not an intentional slap given by the poet; it is caused by the bond he builds with the reader and the fact that he touches in the right place.The selected poems for this book let you read - without thinking looking behind the words for a closed meaning such as, “what did the poet want to say?” - with the Isakovski’s emotional flow, fell to stand, undefeated, with pain and passion, and sometimes with the affection of a father, and mostly but most of all, with "awareness". You need to take a long or a short break to breathe in after every poem. I generally tend to read all everything at once when I first meet with a poetry book. Actually, I couldn’t do it but I was actually unable to do that with this one. My first attempt to read the book ended when I arrived to at the sixth poem: “Alright”, which starts with these lines: “alright, let me confess to myself: / I am alone. full stop.” I stopped right there. I had heard this poem at the reading, and actually thought that the fact that I had already heard it would not affect my reading. I was wrong. I decided to read it by putting on his loneliness and giving myself breaks. I didn’t touch the book for a while. When I decided to go on with my readings, I went to where I was, to “Alright”. I compare this poem to strong booze; if you drink it slowly, you will have the taste of it all over in your palate, but if you drink it quickly - all at once - you will crash.
The following one, “Gentle Poem”, helps me get my upside down balance right, even though it also has lines that strike you like the poet’s hands against your face, as in: “never managing to be satiated with food, words, and music - I’ll screw myself up with too much love for life”.
He confessed that he’s a caring father in, “You Sleep Here…”, but he’s never a hypocrite. If a father leaves behind this book for his offspring, they would understand him and his pain, and be aware of life's realities, which will lead them to become a good person. I don’t think – for sure – that the poet planned it to be this way. This is totally my humble opinion.
His irony peaks in the poem which gave the name to the book: “Fuck you, Isakovski” (I don’t cite any line from it, especially; the whole poem is a wicked grin in my face).
After reaching the top, Isakovski does not push you from behind and let you fall from the cliff. He takes your hand and goes on describing his experiences until he says goodbye. In “Reclining on Verses” he says: “all around me verses / on top of me verses beneath me verses / like tender butterflies, like golden dust / they run away like a flock of mute fish / in the sky's pond that shines in gold / golden as silence”. His journey ends in Istanbul with “Seagulls Above The Rooftops” with these lines: “tonight, a seagull was chasing a dove. / a dove came to defend the dove: / more seagulls came. / there’s no justice in the sky. / in the nights above Istanbul. and at all.” I guess, because of his sincerity, you do not want to lose his hand, and go on reading a few poems back not to finish the book.
At this point, I would have to cite Gökçenur Ç’s name as one of the main reasons made me allowing me to have experienced this. If he hadn’t done this thoroughgoing work in gaining these poems in our language, I would never hold Isakovski’s hand, nor tell him “Hi” when I came across him on the street.
I’ve read the book for many times before I started to write this review. In the end, I told myself: “Igor Isakovski is not mimicking anything; he’s not writing random verses, and he picks the right words and builds with them into a poem... so he does poems."
December 2014
Melike Inci, born on September 19th 1975, in Istanbul. After the graduation from Italian High School she studied Chemical Engineering in University of Istanbul. She wrote articles in a comic called “Alarm” in 2003, completed first novel “Kırılma Noktası / Breaking Point” in 2009, and the second one “Zamasız / Untimely” in 2010 (both published temporarily as e-book). She participated creative writing workshops in ex-alumni association of Bosphorus University. Her short story “Yok Gibi / As Absent” took part in the selection of AltKitap.com’s 2010 short story awards book “Veda / Goodbye”. Other short stories “İlk Gece / First Night” and “Aldatma / Deception” have been published in Altzine.net, “Örümcek Ağı / Spider’s Web” in tersninja.com in 2011, and “Ölümsüz / Immortal” in Kadir Aydemir’s short story selection “Mutsuz Aşk Vardır / There is Unhappy Love” and her novel “O Anda / At That Moment” published by Yitik Ülke in 2014.
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