Poetry reading/open mike exhibits literary talents

Lit magazine Enchiridion hosts event at Feve

There is certainly a lot of political discourse on campus, and a good number of publications devoted to promoting it. But this is a college after all, and literary discussions and publications can sometimes seem lacking. Thursday night, Enchiridion, formerly the Plum Creek Review, gave the writing community a boost by sponsoring a reading/open mike at the Feve.

One could argue with the choice of setting. Even if one arrived early, they would have trouble getting a seat. Many eventually resigned themselves to the floor, in hopes a chair would free up later. The cappuccino machine's occasional rumblings also added a rather distracting noise to the proceedings. But overall, it did lend a certain populist atmosphere to the proceedings.

The audience was curiously silent, from fatigue or from lack of interest, it wasn't clear. The quality of the poetry and of the reading (which, some would say, makes the most difference at events such as these) varied. The first reader/piece, "Skin," was a colloquial poem full of sex, cigarettes and beer. At times it approached brilliance (the parody of a romance novel was especially appreciated), but sometimes it was simply a basic relationship rant. Overall it was an excellent poem, though. Senior Sonja Krefting's two poems were also fairly good, though more of the non-sequitur, mythological variety.

Next was Joseph Agresic, who previewed a collection of Allan Ginsberg post- (and pre-) mortems by reading perhaps a few too many. Still, "covers" of the masters are often sadly lacking at readings such as this, and hearing Ferlinghetti was a refreshing change of pace.

A few humorous poets followed, and a few who apologized for the quality of their pieces, though they really were all right.

A standout was first-year Elizabeth Bernstein, especially her first poem, "Summer." It could be classified as "urban," but like the best poetry it displayed a unique voice that used the genre to further her own artistic ends.

After this annoying guy named Mike read, the floor was opened up and (after some initial hesitation) got quite an enthusiastic response. Readers did not introduce themselves, but often displayed formidable literary talents.

This reading certainly gives a cynic hope for the blossoming of creativity at Oberlin. At a school where performance is often valued over creation, nights like these would make even and old English teacher smile. Enchiridion has certainly done the school a service, and further readings will be welcomed and, if this was any indication, well-attended.

The audience was curiously silent, from fatigue or from lack of interest, it wasn't clear.