The Arianist is a masterpiece of brilliant lyrical dexterity from a
poet who consistently is in the outlook for an infusion of words and
glittery imagery that suppresses the mind and holds it on ransom for
unending satisfaction. With a total of nineteen (19) poems; 24 pages,
The Arianist is the surest way to understand the artistry of how words
that can be birthed out of love found in the wrong places – just as the
poet stipulated in his dedication to the specific personalities that
this masterwork is meant for. And of course, it is a collection of poems
meant for every soul who requires refueling in the face of multiple
sparks of love and dodged sentiments.
“Thirty Poems in a
Night” is the best way possible to begin this collection. It is the
very lens through which the entire collection reflects on how other
poems would evolve. Bearing nostalgia, one can make the conclusion that
the poet is deeply affected in somewhat way and manner, in which his
perceived lover left him, thus, writing …
“I wrote for you
Thirty poems in a night
And threw the papers
Into the fire.
If you hadn’t left
I would have made our
Wedding dress
Out of those poems” – Thirty Poems in a Night
It
is quite obvious from the kind of tone and mood utilized by J. Y.
Frimpong in expressing the effect that this breakup has had upon him. In
using such touchy words, it seems very depressing consoling with him
over this void created by his perceived lover.
Inasmuch
as it is of much interest reading these well collected poems, the poems
are so well connected that it looks as though it was the poet’s
intention to let the poems follow one after another, which most often is
a difficult thing to do. In “Her Eyes”, there is this exuding feeling
that gently taps on the reader about how the poet generously leverages
poetic expression or license to himself. Filled with heartfelt
sentiments, the poem is a kind of a cult of human rot that ravages one’s
ability to be humane. What is more depressing is the level with which
‘betrayal’ can be expressed. Such is the reality of life that humanity
can’t avoid.
“You can bend yourself for people
And they will still think you did
Nothing for them” – Her Eyes
In
“Writing a Poem”, I realized, however, that the poet sounded more like
Dante Alighieri, the legendary Italian poet. His conviction of what form
and which audience his poem should address is more of a naturalistic
feeling and of a spiritual adherence. In making reference to heaven
purgatory and hell, it quickly reminds me of Dante’s Divine Comedy,
specifically, Paradiso, Purgatorio and Inferno. But somehow, J. Y.
Frimpong manages to use broad array of conceptual metaphors that
broadens the horizon from it just relating to Dante’s works by drifting
into ghostly and geographical calls which eventually concludes into the
broad theme of this work, love.
“I ask whether I should write about the
universe
Or about God
Or about heaven
Purgatory
Or hell and how not to fall in love with it. – Writing a Poem
What
surprises upon reading each poem is the conscious attempt by the poet
to restore the never unending and unfailing love of God into the bigger
picture. How does it feel when one recites a poem to the wind? It is
synonymous to saying a prayer to the wind which you do definitely know
would carry it to the heavens, where God dwells. Indeed, one can
conclude presumably that the “gardens” as used by the poet is the
genesis of the one puritan garden of Eden, where the source of genuine
love had its roots. In a broader context, however, we are assured by the
poet’s reaffirmation of God’s unflinching love towards humanity in the poem,
“Looking for God”. Much as the poet seeks after God, it is intriguing
to note how the poet draws critical look at whom or what God could be
with an extension of his metaphoric use of “everything”.
”I wrote seven poems for God
I recited it to the wind
When I got tired and slept
I dreamt about gardens
God is everything that
Seeks the betterment of mankind.” – Looking for God
Everyone
who has keenly followed the works of J. Y. Frimpong would have noticed
something strange about him – his insistent obsession with ghosts.
Sometimes, I do wonder if he himself is a kind of ghost with robes of
human flesh. But what could be so exciting about ghosts that a poet
dedicates himself to their thinking and ideals? However, in this poem
“The naming of a Ghost”, the poet becomes the ghost whose ceremony is
not that of a departure but one of a breakup from a relationship – love.
The saddest part is that mostly we do not realize the best gift of the
people we have until they are no more in our cultist play net. Addressing them with flamboyant words do not add a muscle to the beautiful things of love we let go waste.
“What are you going to say
At
my naming ceremony
Now that I am a ghost?
Are you going to call me
The
‘Tragic boy who felt love could move mountains?’
Or
‘The boy who loved
more than love itself?’
Or
‘The boy who walked on thorns for love?’
None
of these names matter now” – The naming of a
Ghost
In all, J. Y. Frimpong, a Kumasi based
Ghanaian’s ‘The Arianist’ is a magnum opus – a tour de force in the
poetry enclave – with distinguishing appeal such that if care is not
taken could not be referred to as a work by an African poet and a
Ghanaian at large. The imagery adapted by the poet makes the poems
flowery – charging on with beauteous expression that is suspense in
nature and scholarly in output. This work, The Arianist, would go down
into the Africa/World Literature archives as one of the most classical
work ever written by any Ghanaian poet in the contemporary age.
Reviewer:
Abeiku Arhin Tsiwah. Abeiku performs poetry with The Village Thinkers,
Ghana and serves as the poetry editor for Lunaris Review, Nigeria.
Tsiwah, an international award winning poet and author of Afro-conscious
heritage writes from his fatherland – Cape Coast, Ghana.
