The Writing Experiment by Hazel Smith

(Jos van der Sman) #1
term, don’t you find—rear-view mirror—so filled with plod and
particularity? Compare the snappier French: rétroviseur. Retrovision:
how much we wish we had it, eh? But we live our lives without such
useful little mirrors magnifying the road just travelled. We barrel up
the A61 towards Toulouse, looking ahead, looking ahead.Those who
forget their history are condemned to repeat it. The rétroviseur :
essential for not just road safety but the race’s survival. Oh dear,
I feel an advertising slogan coming on.

From Love, etc , (Barnes 2001, pp. 18–19)

In my own prose poem ‘Mirror’ the metaphor of the mirror keeps changing:


Example 1.27
The mirror hangs slightly crooked on the wall, thin and long like
a mask. Sometimes it seems to be part of the wall, sometimes it
seems to stand out from it. One day you look it in the eye.The next
day you sit where you can avoid it.

There have been days when you have taken the mirror off the
wall and carried it across your back like a cross, sagging under
its weight. There have been times when the mirror seemed to
dissolve and you dipped your hand in it and smeared it over you.
These are the worst.
There is a man in the mirror who tries to speak but he cannot make
sounds. There is only a fish mouth darting and hands frenetically
gesticulating.

Once you hung a cloth over the glass as if it were in disgrace. And
you often smooth over the edges trying to bend them. You try to
teach your friend tricks, how to draw rabbits out of a hat. Or you
play love games with her, putting your hand behind her neck and
stroking her.
There are moments when the mirror is made of layers you can peel
away, labels from their sticky backs. Sometimes you smear the sheet
with blood, or toothpaste, or chalk words on it. You long to walk
through the looking-glass, but you do not dare to take the risk.

You feel good when you move the magnet and it cannot move
without you. But it can screen a stranger’s thoughts or the mirror
image of a dream.
Once you cut your finger on the uncompromising edge.

Playing with language, running with referents 23
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