Poems of quiet magic.(Poems 1980-2008)(Book review)

Poems 1980-2008, by Jan Owen; John Leonard Press, 2008, $29.95.

JAN OWEN'S WORK deserves to be better known outside the small world of poetry enthusiasts. Her new collection, Poems 1980-2008, contains selected poems from five previous books, and more than forty poems published for the first time under the title Laughing in Greek.

Owen's earlier collections in this period are Boy with a Telescope, Fingerprints on Light, Blackberry Season, Night Rainbows and Timedancing. She has received several awards for her poetry and has been a writer-in-residence in Venice, Paris, Malaysia and Rome. None of this makes her a household name. Owen's poems work their magic with quiet assurance. She has a dazzling, underrated talent. There are no grand narratives, no victim personae, no fanfares. Instead there are shimmering memories, fleeting encounters, caught moments, perfect pitch and seamless craftsmanship.

The blurb tells us the opening poem, "First Love", presents Owen's world in capsule form. A schoolgirl, obsessed with a portrait of a Renaissance man, gazes at him in a book held under the desk in Physics classes:

 
   I got six overdues, 
   suspension of borrowing rights 
   and a D in Physics. 
   But had by heart what Archimedes proves. 
   Ten years later I married: 
   a European with cool grey eyes, 
   a moustache, 
   pigskin gloves. 

The poem is as seductive as the portrait, but for a capsule of Owen's technique I would turn to "Hotel", which conjures up the brummy lock on the bedroom door in a badly run hotel (Leicester Court--this sounds like London). A melancholy Polish handyman comes to investigate:

 
   The problem was not the key, 
   the lock was worn; 
   it worked three quarters in. 
   "Please. You try." 
   (his hand over mine). 
   The right fit, slight opposition, 
   an easing home, 
   and it opened sweet as a thought.