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Joseph Csinger: Keyhole in the Sky, 1998. A book of poetry in English

The Nanaimo-based Joseph Csinger has published three books of poetry. The first collection, Emlékvitorla, was put out in 1997. Another Hungarian book of his verses was published in 2000, under the title Ûrrepülés. In the present review, we are going to discuss Mr. Csinger’s volume originally written in English, under the title Keyhole in the sky. The volume under review offers poems authored since 1950. His name as a poet is well known to the readers of the Poetry Institute of Canada, The National Library of Poetry and the now defunct Montreal Star, which carried  several of his work over the decades. In fact, he has received awards from The National Library of Poetry for the excellence of his poems.

The first two sections of his collection under review are related to the metropolitan environment. Although there is little evidence of the day-to-day description of a new immigrant life, there are general indications of his basic convictions regarding the current social issues and the poet’s solidarity with the have-nots, as expressed in On a thin thread of starlight.

His writings seem to have been inspired by a feeling of loneliness. Most human experiences, and it is particularly true in the case of displaced people, originate from loneliness. Loneliness, the lacking of a satisfying social contact, is ever present in ethnic Canadian literature. As revealed, Mr. Csinger’s poems are examples of  his heroes’ intent to express their  desire for meaningful human relations, a condition so elusive in our lifestyles, a desire so well illustrated in his poems.

The poems included in this volume show the hardships experienced by a newcomer during the process of  aclimatization: the embarrassment resulting from an awkward sounding of his foreign name (Guest book), or the hurt feelings caused by well-meaning, but patronazing and back-slapping personal contacts that can cause pain, rather than reassurance.

The poems in the second cycle, Echo against walls, are devoted to life in an urban environment which is often harsh and unaccommodating. In one of his Hungarian poems, Jónás Ninivében, Mr. Csinger maintains that the new pagan world tends to show some  willingness to tolerate, but never to fully accept an alien person.

Alienation is another aspect of the Csinger-poems. He finds city life inhumane. In Skyline at sunrise, Fable of new Babel, Abandoned construction  sites, Ode to a parking meter, he paints for the reader the vision of a new Babel with its greedy materialism, noisy construction sites, crummy tenements, irritating parking meters, wild growth of skyscrapers, the metaphorically slithering snakes, rampant rats and vampire bats, a place unfit for civilized life.

After retirement in Montreal, he had relocated with his family to Nanaimo, B.C. The poems collected under the title Fall sailing were written in his new home. It seems that the semi-urban community offers an agreeable lifestyle which is quite  suitable for creative work. Although the image of gigantic buildings and enormous shopping centers lingers on, he takes time to cast a tender eye upon the details of his new environment: the majestic scenery of the countryside, the large boulders and clumps of towering trees (Viewfinder). His attuned ears catch the sounds of nature that he is shaping into poetry. As well, he has a fine eye for the image that not only describes, but also reveals the transforming mystery of the poetic event.

He was an ardent environmentalist long before the term has became fashionable in present day life. In his Plea for condemned trees, he makes an impassioned plea for the trees destined for clear-cutting. Like a wrathful Biblical Prophet, Mr. Csinger evokes the image of resurrection – or rather that Doomsday when an un-merciful Old Testament God passes judgement over  His sinners who destroyed for profit His beloved forests.

The more recent poems, representing old age truly as it is, a person doing ordinary chores, manicuring the lawn, dusting the rooms, or plainly enjoying the peaceful autumn season, are an indication that Joseph Csinger, trapped for decades in urban environment, has not lost touch with the mystery of nature. He gives us an opportunity to renew our own vision. And we should be thankful to him for that.

John Miska

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