“The Drowned Brother” by Brendan Constantine
“The Drowned Brother” is a eulogy-like poem that explores the revelation of the death of a brother in Brendan Constantine’s latest poetic novel “Calamity Joe”. In the poem, the narrator Calamity Joe relates the impersonal actions of the police and lawyers called in to investigate the death of his brother. Brutally simple language and imagery juxtapose the busywork of officials with the complex emotions of grief that center on the overwhelming stillness emanating from Calamity Joe’s absent brother.
1 They fished you out yesterday.
2 A hook in the dragnet passed through your lip,
3 Brought you up to me like a mackerel.
Calamity Joe’s focus on the bureaucracy surrounding his brother’s death is a viewpoint that is not often seen in literature even though it is a crucial process that close family members must go through, regardless of the cause of death. Life goes on for the survivors, and preparations must be made as we make a transition of our own into a world where one less loved one is corporeally present.
It’s an eerie experience that I had to go through myself after my uncle’s death. The day after he had checked out permanently from hospice, we were ushered into a room with funerary officials and given options for the burial. The officials were compassionate and professional, but despite the steady throng of choices to be made, it seemed as though introspection for the deceased was my only area of control.
Constantine captures this mood in the poem by directing most of the action towards the ominous “They” that makes up the officials investigating the brother’s death. While “They” fish and bring and hang clothes, Calamity Joe can only “see” their actions and introspectively contemplate his grief and his brother.
9 They brought me
10 Your shirts & pants folded in a box.
12 /…/who dried your clothes?
13 I see them,
14 Wet on a line with other shirts & pants,
15 Thousands, hung by old police women
Calamity Joe’s scrutiny of the officials unravels as a lawyer evaluates the evidence left in a note from his brother. Here Constantine parallels the lawyer’s question of “why and how did this happen?” with Calamity Joe’s examination of how well he can remember his brother:
19 The lawyer still has your note. To study,
20 He says. How many times must he read it
21 To have it down? I got, gone fishing,
22 On my first try.
In the end, Calamity Joe’s conclusion hinges on the meaning that the lawyer can interpret from the note. If the lawyer can develop an understanding of the tragic demise of the brother from the sparse words left behind, then perhaps Calamity Joe can hold on to a vivid memory of his brother based on his limited perspective.
23 Will he send it back
24 With edits? Can I make you clearer,
25 Develop you more? What of your hair,
26 Your eyes?
27 Were you like anything else?
It seems that the inevitable reflection and the decision (either conscious or not) to remember loved ones that are no longer with us is an unavoidable rite of passage for survivors that have been left behind. When we can no longer tap into the first-hand experiences of the dead, it becomes our joy and our burden to carry with us the memories and knowledge that we have of them to replace what was lost.
Related Sevenponds Articles:
“Making Mobiles” by Karolina Merska
“Hands Up to the Sky” by Michael Franti & Spearhead
Coping With Election Grief
