Made Beautiful by Use
- Publisher
- Signature Editions
- Initial publish date
- Apr 2007
- Category
- Canadian
-
Paperback / softback
- ISBN
- 9781897109137
- Publish Date
- Apr 2007
- List Price
- $14.95
Classroom Resources
Where to buy it
Description
What should we believe in? Tough, gritty, innovative. In Made Beautiful by Use, Sean Horlor tackles issues of belief by questioning whether it's possible for anyone to be conscious, compassionate, and ethical in a twenty-first-century world. Whether it is St. Joan before the walls of Orleans or St. George returning to the world as George W. Bush, here are some of the West's greatest stories retold from a contemporary perspective. Here we have the dark-age St. Brendan in a series of poems that focus on a search for higher levels of consciousness acted out during St. Brendan's legendary voyage across the Atlantic. Contrast these to the George W. Bush satires that explore societal ethics and avoidance of social responsibility in favour of ideology.
Horlor's hagiographies, praises, and virtues are set in a milieu that is contemporary and streetwise, aware of homelessness, drug cultures, sexuality, and consumerism. Belief, therefore, is not set among the liturgical pieties of the Church, but in the grittiness of the world itself, where belief is breached, found, and confirmed. Can what we believe in be reduced to signs that prove existence? Mostly written at Queenswood Convent on southern Vancouver Island, Made Beautiful by Use questions what constitutes faith in a time when too many have stopped believing.
About the author
Contributor Notes
Sean Horlor was born in Edmonton and lived in Victoria for many years before making Vancouver his home. After earning a BFA from the University of Victoria, he worked in a number of public relations positions, including as a speechwriter in the Premier's office of British Columbia. He currently works in the public relations field in Vancouver. He also models and continues to write poetry and articles for a variety of publications. After a number of unsuccessful career attempts, such as a go-go dancer, a corporate executive, a William Shatner fan, and a professional heckler, Horlor realized poetry is his calling. He has published his poetry widely in literary journals, including Arc, Event, The Fiddlehead, Grain, Pine Magazine, THIS Magazine, The Claremont Review, Inner Harbour Review, and The Malahat Review. His poem "In Praise of Beauty" won first place in This Magazine's 2006 Great Canadian Literary Hunt and was an Editor's Choice in Arc's International Poem of the Year contest. Made Beautiful by Use is his first collection of poetry.
Excerpt: Made Beautiful by Use (by (author) Sean Horlor)
In Praise of What is Found Again
The sea obeys and fetters break And lifeless limbs thou dost restore While treasures lost are found again When young or old thine aid implore.
- Responsory of St. Anthony
The newspapers herald this is the age of the individual.
Weeks pass and disgorge the lost marginalia of my existence:
keys, that ever-elusive sock's return from AWOL, a promise ring from years ago
when such symbols could steady the earth with the pause and lustre of a loose, earth-quaked clear.
The present is a contemplation of what is: bearded men hawking once-upon-a-times,
mis-strung guitars and braided everythings the sidewalks studded with beggars,
their empty hats like hearts. To romantics, Main St. is made beautiful by use:
the dark-carved street during midsummer brownouts; suspended,
the smog's particulate trumpets through our lungs. Like fingerprints,
every tongue-print is different. This is for what comes to us
through language: sun-struck, modern a demonstration of gunmetal, of words that gleam.
St. Brendan and the Isle of Weeping
The first fountain was still, silty with the red dust of this place, it incandesced under the last of the autumn sky like a rusted shield.
Soundless, the next seeped from rock in a braid of many blues to a pool darker than the ring around the brown of Brendan's eye.
All around him: wind counting palm fronds, the tide slipping from the shore. Forty days sailing without rain
yet he could not drink from either water. At dusk, the crickets filled his head with sorrow. It was then he heard the silence of the two fountains
for what it was: to know the sound of the cricket in autumn is to know that suffering
in its human form should remain unheard.
Justice
–after Lorna Crozier
I make important decisions with help from a simple can of Alphagetti by composing earth-shaking sales offers in sauce-stained hues: DEAR KELLOGGS, I WOULD LIKE TO SELL MY SOUL FOR A LIFETIME SUPPLY OF FRUIT LOOPS. Other mornings, I aim for the Descartes-esque: I CONSUME THEREFORE I AM. Yes, the alphabet is making an all-caps comeback à la Heinz and you can't blame the other multinationals for elbowing in: C for Coca-Cola Company; F for Ford... I'll admit it was my J'adore Dior t-shirt that convinced me to attempt to sell my name on eBay for just enough venture capital to buy a swirl cone at McDonalds. Still, I'm getting better at owning what I say: letter by letter, the bill for my every word's exact worth slowly adding up.
Alvuquerque Barrio
–transposition from "President Bush Meets with First-Time Homebuyers in NM and AZ" March 26, 2004
When you landed, the intended plenty shrunk into one discouraging moment: you fell to the ground and it met you like a husband, shorelined you to this part of the world permanently. Bright soil. No bushes.
No welcoming band to put a tear in the eye either. The airplane returned to Mexico. To reason the past three years went with it seemed acceptable as the city crowds moved backward under popping cables, junk everywhere.
Madmen on TV screens share terror. The savings you had put aside were enough to buy a telephone, yet your pockets filled with ideas instead of quarters: the role of the individual is to own a dream
A house is like a cowboy hat, good for courage, but in the end practical as a relative in Mexico: something to save money for, then abandon when broke.