Book: Hammer: Poems
Written By Mark Turpin (Sarabande Books)
Reviewed by Erick Mertz

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Professionally invested poets are common in the American literary canon. One needn't look further than the work of William Carlos Williams and Walt Williams, both of whom toiled in the medical profession, to see where vocation can foster and inspire great, visceral verse.

San Francisco Bay Area poet Mark Turpin's collection Hammer reflects the values of a long life spent immersed in physical work. A master carpenter and crew foreman for twenty five years in a house building team, Turpin uses the language of craftsmanship to evoke romantic and ponderous notions. The nature of love's relationship to ownership teems in "The Man Who Built This House," weaving itself into the thick language of construction. Like the romantic who imagines lifetimes of bliss and toil in two passing lovers, Turpin sees pride and skill in the walls of a regular home. When relating to crew members, there is similar affection for the unspoken struggles within. "Last Hired" takes an everyday layoff and imbues it with a more dignified humanity than mere numbers crunch: "He was incompetent, but incompetence is not a crime." It is a grim look at the man in question - grim, but honest, more concerned with the subject's relationship to his own abilities. When not working with his chosen topic of craft, Turpin tends to hammer too many nails into his soft fine wood. The ease is missing and language feels less comfortable. This isn't to say that Hammer is limited - it isn't - it recognizes how well the poet's pen takes to wood and its structure is definitive.

If accessibility be a poet's gift, then Mark Turpin has been most generously blessed. He is a utilitarian wordsmith. The verses in Hammer resemble a toolbox of satisfying verse. One can only imagine Turpin on the job site, set philosophically against the rough exterior of his profession; listening to the rap, rap, rapping of hammers and nails, then musing throughout the day.

© 2003 - Erick Mertz