Orlam

Whatever the technical merit of the prose, whatever the story telling landscape, whoever the author is, the most important feeling at the close of a piece of great writing is grief – grief at leaving the company of the characters, grief at the sudden absence of the narrator’s voice, grief at the end of the protagonist’s challenge to our own pleasant valley Sunday view of the world.Orlam is an accomplished poem, a fusing of faerie with the threat of the real-world horrors like Dogwell’s house, the place where the babysat children of Underwhelem pray ‘the dread door does not open.’ The story is told through the eyes of Ira, a young girl on the cusp of adolescence, a young ‘gurrel’ full of rage, curiosity, and longing. The yearning for completeness, for an absent half, is present throughout the book – an absent mother, a brother who prefers the company of his imaginary twin to his sister, Stacy Gales’ unborn twin, Ira’s longing for Wyman Elvis.Orlam is written in a Dorset dialect that illustrates the ancient Germanic roots within: Vs and Ws switched, ds and ths consonant swapped, zebm instead of seven, the play on the word ‘farter’ for Ira’s ‘loathsome tonight’ father. The poem is beautiful, grim, provocative, with language that reflects the kindness and cruelty of nature, and a nine-year old female Beowulf whose Grendel is her own sheep-farmer sire. Ira escapes into the woods. Scattered amongst the roots of timeless Gore Woods are Safeway carrier bags, 1970’s confectionery brands, used condoms.An evocative sense of place is at the heart of good books. In many ways, Gore Woods is the central character of the book, the close-packed trees as the entry point of fear, adventure, self-discovery, death. Ira’s Hundred Acre Wood is haunted by rage, loss, the spectre of abuse, burgeoning sexuality. As well as the no-time world of Gore Woods, Harvey gives us the village of Underwhelem, the claustrophobic agricultural hamlet where resentments simmer, where secrets are hidden, where men drink to forget inside the Golden Fleece inn.Harvey avoids W.B. Yeat’s whimsical escape into a rural fantasy of yesteryear. Orlam instead evokes the yearning of Patrick Kavanagh’s The Great Hunger – of a place that is loved and hated in equal measure, a place that inspires and imprisons, the lustful longing for a life partner. As with Alan Moore’s evocative epic Jerusalem - set amongst the lost streets of Northampton’s Boroughs - we come to inhabit the ‘hag -ridden hollow’ of Underwhelem, walk the same streets, catch the same school bus as Ira.I felt grief at the close of Orlam.The wild magic of Gore Woods awaits, and I am anxious to return.

Looks really good

What a journey, bringing it all back home, if she's not there already she'd do well to dwell in John Moriarty's Dreamtime. Excellent, magical work.

I think Polly owns her own woodland, nearby to where she lives. And she probably calls it Gore woods, where she enjoys setting traps for rabbits. I haven't finished properly reading Orlam yet, still stuck on 'Washed in the blood', I will endevour to carry on, and may write a better review here later. But I did find that reading it out aloud to myself with a Dorset accent really made it far more alive and entertaining for myself and my friends when performed in this way. Poetry must be read out aloud to appreciate it fully. Not just to yourself in your head. So if you can manage a Dorset accent, then you can handle this book. - Si

A beatific ode to Nature.

Not read it properly yet. There’s a native and an English version on opposite pages.It’s beautifully written , can’t wait to read it fully.

I've followed PJH since 1990. She is the saviour of British rock and now a literary genius. Orlam was a Christmas present so only read a.bit so far. Its difficult to put into words just how accomplished an artist PJH is. Whatever she turns her mind to becomes a piece of excellence

There are many reviews of this book and I am not literate enough to qualify it in their (the reviewers') vernacular.Did I enjoy the book? That is a big fat yes.Did it make me stop and think? Yes on many levels.Have I put it to one side after completion? No, I keep dipping in and out of it.A great big thanks to Polly for this wonderful, captivating read.

Livro lindo em todos os sentidos, uma leitura difícil porém recompensadora. Pj Harvey não decepciona.

I am a huge fan of PJ Harvey’s music but I went into this book sort of assuming she might be like a lot of other musicians who decide to write poetry. NOT SO! She is a true poet by any standard. ORLAM is disgusting, terrifying, idiosyncratic, and filled with dappled things which you find yourself praising very soon. The rich language shines with its own luster (and there’s a lot) and that of its eclectic influences: Shakespeare, Coleridge, Elvis Presley, Pink Floyd etc. The whole poem just oozes with the raw, visceral energy of nature itself. It is “life and death all intertwined.”Don’t get me started on how thrilled I am that her new album is about ORLAM! They mutually only enrich each other.The end of ORLAM is gorgeous. For me the whole book so strangely evokes the way romantic desire and a search for god or meaning so often become indistinguishable from each other. Maybe the Wyman we all long for is language itself: literature, art, meaning, expression, truth. There is so much hope here because this Wyman is available to all of us. We can all be saved. Basically, Harvey is my Wyman.

A great read to prepare for upcoming tour and get insight into her latest album.

of course. obsessed with her, even, and read/listened to/watched every single pj thing I could get my filthy paws on over decades so naturally, read this. only giving it 3 stars because I need to reread it. I understood only about 1/5 of what I was reading, but quite quite enjoyable (again, naturally)…