Unincorporated Persons in the Late Honda Dynasty by Tony Hoagland
A REVIEW BY ROBBIE Q. TELFER
Known for his humorous verse and goofy-looking author photos, Tony Hoagland is one of the most influential poets writing today. His fourth full-length collection finds him still musing on American life and social discourse with his characteristic wit and conversational tone.
Hoagland—who is not only goofy-looking, but also white-looking—often tackles race in his work with mixed results. A Google search starting with “Tony Hoagland r” suggests that you search for “Tony Hoagland racist,” which means Google users are also unsure, at the very least, how to swallow his concepts on the subject. In “Foghorn,” a poem dedicated to the black-looking poet Terrence Hayes, Hoagland speaks on the resentment and complicated emotions that fill simple interactions between white and black people, as represented here by a black man needing to sit down next to the author in a fast-food restaurant. Hoagland indicts himself along with his race,
and then in the end declares:
In this land where consciousness is a fiction,
through the oxygen mask of my lies
and the skin of my self-deception,
this is what I say:
Brother, lean your brown face down
and let me look at you. (32-37)
I envision Hoagland reading this poem with Terrence Hayes in the audience, announcing, “This one’s for you, T!” and when it’s over, saying “Word, bro! Right? Word!” And Hayes is giving him the “cut it” hand gesture, wishing all the white people would stop turning and looking at him to know how to react.
Though sometimes coming off smugger here than previous collections, he still succeeds with his defamiliarizing humor (in “Romantic Moment”: “if I were a bull penguin right now I would lean over / and vomit softly into the mouth of my beloved” (7-8)) and exasperated kindness (after a friend’s death in “Rhythm and Blues”: “it will never be alright with me, this moving on, / the way people let themselves / get away with it” (26-28)).
In “Powers,” he succeeds at being himself the best with this useful observation:
Turns out the real reason for growing up
was to learn what to do with suffering.
Not being surprised was the answer.
What else do you want to know? (10-13)
Sometimes I wonder if his face will shatter from all that smirking, but here, for me, it is endearing. And perhaps Hoagland is successful at being himself in the rest of the collection. It just appears that who he is has become a more bitter fellow who maybe isn’t trying as hard as he used to (see “The Situation”). It seems he’s skating by on tone while arriving at unsurprising conclusions through familiar content. Throughout, he sighs “Oh” and “Oh life!” at least half a dozen times, throwing up his hands instead of zooming in.
Robbie Q. Telfer is a touring performance poet, having been a featured performer/reader in hundreds of venues across North America, Germany, and Slovenia. His previous work appears in the American Book Review, Octopus Magazine, cream city review, and decomP magazinE, as well as several spoken word anthologies and DVDs. He was an individual finalist at the National Poetry Slam in 2007 and co-wrote the video games Ninjatown DS and Space Miner: Space Ore Bust. He lives in Chicago where he curates the Encyclopedia Show, a live literary variety show now being staged in 10 cities. He is the Director of Performing Arts for Young Chicago Authors, a not-for-profit that gives creative writing opportunities and mentorship to Chicago teens. His work with YCA has been featured in two documentaries from HBO and Siskel Jacobs Productions. He is the poetry correspondent for TimeOut Chicago.
Known for his humorous verse and goofy-looking author photos, Tony Hoagland is one of the most influential poets writing today. His fourth full-length collection finds him still musing on American life and social discourse with his characteristic wit and conversational tone.
Hoagland—who is not only goofy-looking, but also white-looking—often tackles race in his work with mixed results. A Google search starting with “Tony Hoagland r” suggests that you search for “Tony Hoagland racist,” which means Google users are also unsure, at the very least, how to swallow his concepts on the subject. In “Foghorn,” a poem dedicated to the black-looking poet Terrence Hayes, Hoagland speaks on the resentment and complicated emotions that fill simple interactions between white and black people, as represented here by a black man needing to sit down next to the author in a fast-food restaurant. Hoagland indicts himself along with his race,
and then in the end declares:
In this land where consciousness is a fiction,
through the oxygen mask of my lies
and the skin of my self-deception,
this is what I say:
Brother, lean your brown face down
and let me look at you. (32-37)
I envision Hoagland reading this poem with Terrence Hayes in the audience, announcing, “This one’s for you, T!” and when it’s over, saying “Word, bro! Right? Word!” And Hayes is giving him the “cut it” hand gesture, wishing all the white people would stop turning and looking at him to know how to react.
Though sometimes coming off smugger here than previous collections, he still succeeds with his defamiliarizing humor (in “Romantic Moment”: “if I were a bull penguin right now I would lean over / and vomit softly into the mouth of my beloved” (7-8)) and exasperated kindness (after a friend’s death in “Rhythm and Blues”: “it will never be alright with me, this moving on, / the way people let themselves / get away with it” (26-28)).
In “Powers,” he succeeds at being himself the best with this useful observation:
Turns out the real reason for growing up
was to learn what to do with suffering.
Not being surprised was the answer.
What else do you want to know? (10-13)
Sometimes I wonder if his face will shatter from all that smirking, but here, for me, it is endearing. And perhaps Hoagland is successful at being himself in the rest of the collection. It just appears that who he is has become a more bitter fellow who maybe isn’t trying as hard as he used to (see “The Situation”). It seems he’s skating by on tone while arriving at unsurprising conclusions through familiar content. Throughout, he sighs “Oh” and “Oh life!” at least half a dozen times, throwing up his hands instead of zooming in.
Robbie Q. Telfer is a touring performance poet, having been a featured performer/reader in hundreds of venues across North America, Germany, and Slovenia. His previous work appears in the American Book Review, Octopus Magazine, cream city review, and decomP magazinE, as well as several spoken word anthologies and DVDs. He was an individual finalist at the National Poetry Slam in 2007 and co-wrote the video games Ninjatown DS and Space Miner: Space Ore Bust. He lives in Chicago where he curates the Encyclopedia Show, a live literary variety show now being staged in 10 cities. He is the Director of Performing Arts for Young Chicago Authors, a not-for-profit that gives creative writing opportunities and mentorship to Chicago teens. His work with YCA has been featured in two documentaries from HBO and Siskel Jacobs Productions. He is the poetry correspondent for TimeOut Chicago.