As a freelance writer and reviewer, I tend to focus on all realms of writing than exclusively working with a particular genre. This allows me the freedom to review writing that does not always fit a certain structure. In this case, the poetry of Brian Fanelli, author of Front Man.
Recently, when asked to review Fanelli’s chapbook, I jumped at the idea. The review would be printed online through Blood Lotus, an Online Literary Journal established in 2006 and led by the wonderful duo, Stacia Fleegal and Teneice Delgado.
After reading the chapbook, (multiple times I may add), Fanelli came across as a writer willing to share his fears, hopes, and downfalls with the world without question. Fanelli is an amazing poet that readers can expect to hear more about in the years to come.
For my review on Front Man, please refer to the content below or click here.
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Fast and loud the words are amplified through the stereo as the crowd, drenched in sweat and blood, jump, kick and punch and slam to the ones upfront: Try to stop us. It’s no use. We’re gonna rise above, rise above.
It is that exact sentiment that poet, Brian Fanelli, brings forth in his début chapbook, “Front Man”.
At first, it may seem that punk music, anti-establishment, and the do-it-yourself philosophy are the overarching themes throughout the chapbook. However, such themes are merely the outermost layers, peeling away to make visible something much more evocative.
Certainly, the chapbook does not go without mention of The Ramones, The Clash, Dead Kennedys, and Black Flag. Yet, one of the principal thematic elements throughout the book seems to be acceptance of yourself, no matter what the risk.
“The Slam Dance” is a great example of how Fanelli uses imagery to not only portray the environment for his readers, but also make them feel as though every sense of their own body is there with him, propelled forward in the next calamity of events.
I bounced against tattooed bodies / crashed to the floor until she pulled me up / held my hand until I found rhythm and danced / until the music slowed to a slur / greasy rags slid over bar tops.
In particular, one of main elements seems to be the tension throughout the pieces— something that eventually comes to a head. Apprehension towards the alienated narrator continues to build, especially with regard to the relationship with his father. The theme seems to be the major driving force for much of the book, serving as the reason the narrator first becomes engrossed in music, but also later, driven away.
“In Never Going Home,” Fanelli writes, “I dumpster dive, sleep on beer bottle-littered floors / refuse the alarm clock the mirror where father appears / tying a tie, straightening his collar.”
Much of the observations presented in the poems confer about the lives of the blue-collared, the divided, and those who never cared to label themselves. The narrator, however, undergoes a sudden transformation following loss.
“Waiting Room” is the poem where loss is most poignant. It is a turning point in the chapbook when the reader can begin to see the narrator changing from his dumpster-diving, hand-clenching identity to someone so much more than that. We find that identity is not so much about what we wear, listen to, or look like to the rest of the world but rather, the person that we become at the end of it.
Fanelli’s debut chapbook is a vivid journey of emotion through rebellion, broken windows and dirty floors, love, sex, loss, and rebirth.
“Front Man” is available online through Big Table Publishing and Fanelli’s website at http://www.brianfanelli.com/.
Tags: Blood Lotus, Brian Fanelli, Poetry, Punk
Thanks for the kind review, Kacy!