Legato Without a Lisp is Sanjeev Sethi's eighth book of poetry. I have never read any of Sethi's books before this one. However, I have read many of his poems on the internet and am a fan. Legato more than lived up to the expectations I had built up from following Sethi's poetry online. Containing a rich tapestry of experience and language, Sethi's eighth book is an absolute treat for anyone who considers themselves a poetry lover.
A "legato" by definition is musical notes played one after another without any silence separating them. This word sums up Sethi's poetry perfectly. His command of language reminds me of a conductor directing an orchestra, producing poems that are as different from prose as music is from people chitchatting about the weather. Sethi's lines are as rhythmical as violins singing with cellos, as often he switches from light to deep with the craftsmanship of a master. Furthermore, his language use will leave the reader in awe, like someone who has just discovered an amazing piece of music.
For example, in the poem "Ex-Voto" Sethi writes, "We wear guilt-like skin./ It fits artlessly." The use of "guilt-like" has a double meaning. It could mean the skin has the appearance of guilt, presumably from one's dubious choices in life, or it could imply a simile: that we wear our skin the same way we wear our guilt. Either interpretation helps produce a fascinating poem. Not only that, but the second line ("It fits artlessly") creates the impression that regardless of how one might read the previous line, guilt is harder to hide than we think.
The guilt Sethi writes of in "Ex-Voto" brings to mind the regrets and wrongs one accumulates just by living life and aging. This idea is supported in other poems in the book, such as "Caret." The first line in that poem reads, "Aging and ugliness are in sync," showing the downside to aging. Later in the poem, there's the line, "The slander by the body/ is for all to note." These lines show how our bodies betray us with age and how it's impossible to hide, just like the guilt in "Ex-Voto." The poem ends with the lines: "Why does the stopwatch/ freeze at the fence of sorrow?" Again, aging leads to regret and sadness, in keeping with the guilt we wear throughout life. Sethi's music from life isn't always happy, but it’s truthful.
Another example of the sad songs of life comes in the poem “Ghost Gun.” Sethi writes, “No one envisages the verity of my ache.” Based on the poems before this one, I think the ache comes from the guilt accumulated through living and aging. No one lives a life without some regret. We all have decisions we wish we could revisit and reverse, and Sethi puts those decisions to music throughout his book. This poem ends with “I have begun to accept the inclement,” meaning the speaker is becoming more comfortable in their “guilt-like” skin. Such comfort is bittersweet, but so is life at times.
Ultimately, dealing with aging and life for a poet comes down to writing, just like a musician deals with it through music. This thought is on display in “Anecdote.” Here, Sethi talks of an “anger-pistol,” and again turns to a gun metaphor, like in “Ghost Gun,” to describe the situation. The idea of being shot by different situations in life is not only true but also quite poetic. However, in “Anecdote,” the anger-pistol is diffused by someone else, who calms down the speaker. The last line, “And I'm left with this lyric,” shows how the writer is left with nothing but a poem. Again, when navigating the complex emotions that make up life, most artists are often left with nothing but their art. Sethi highlights this sentiment throughout his book while contemplating life's meaning.
Most poetry readers want to ponder such big ideas as those Sethi explores, so recommending this book to them is a no-brainer. However, this book is worth reading, even for those who shy away from poetry. It details the human condition in a way that good poetry should. Whether it's the regrets from getting older or the guilt, we wear throughout life. Then there are the "flames of loneliness" Sethi mentions in the last poem in the book, titled "Portrait," which he fans throughout a wonderful collection that deserves a place on your bookshelf.
Richard LeDue (he/him) lives in Norway House, Manitoba, Canada. He has been published both online and in print. He is the author of ten books of poetry. His latest book, Sometimes, It Isn't Much, was released from Alien Buddha Press in February 2024.
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