Review of Mike Cohen’s Between the Shadow and the Wall

Review of Mike Cohen’s Between the Shadow and the Wall

November 10, 2020

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Between the Shadow and the Wall

 Parnilis Media

$10.00

You can purchase a copy here.

Reviewed by Abbey J. Porter


 

“When in doubt, question all terms and definitions.”

I read this advice years ago, in a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon. Perhaps Mike Cohen saw the same cartoon. In his recent book, Between the Shadow and the Wall, the longtime Philadelphia writer challenges not only conventional language, but also conventional thinking. In this collection of poems and short tales, Cohen brings a fresh perspective and ironic humor to topics including time, aging, and religion.

The book’s title suggests an unnamed, unknown space—one we don’t readily see or think about—and it’s into this unfamiliar territory that Cohen leads us. His intent seems partly to disabuse us of our usual way of seeing things. As he points out in “When the Birds Say So,” the sun “doesn’t really rise, you know…never has.”

Cohen plays with language in a way that challenges the expected and familiar—as in “The Path of No Resistance,” in which,

Tired of taking the path of least resistance,
I have decided today to take
The path of no resistance at all.

Most of the book is made up of poems, the majority of them written in open verse. Cohen’s writing is accessible, with a matter-of-fact, conversational quality. His language is precise and concrete.

The passage of time, and aging, are recurring topics, and Cohen introduces these themes early with one of the collection’s first poems, “Before the Future.” Here, the narrator regards a photograph of himself as a young man:

I envy the young man
not his youth, but his naivete
that affords him a great view of the future

Cohen concludes:

Of what is about to befall the young man
I remember enough
not to envy him beyond this point.

The poem reflects the wry perspective that typifies much of Cohen’s work. He seems very much in touch with the challenges of aging, and with mortality. Cohen reminds us in “Breath” that life is “Just like that breath you took…You have to give it back.”

Some might call Cohen’s viewpoint negative or gloomy; others might simply call it realistic. (I am in the latter category.) Cohen does not appear to subscribe to common sources of psychic comfort, such as the Christian promise of a rewarding afterlife. As he says in “Not Playing Possum,” his is a world in which maggots “have as much dominion as anyone else.”

Even happiness in the earthly world is not to be counted on. Cohen reminds us in “The Best Day” that

Today may just be
the best day of the rest of your life.
Something may happen—
some small awful thing,
so by this time tomorrow
your world could be
a much more miserable place to live
and die.

But Cohen’s irreverent, ironic humor keeps this work from being a downer—far from it. In “Respect for the Dead,” he declares, “I don’t like dead people…[They] are thoughtless, inconsiderate, and have no sense of humor.” Here and elsewhere, I found myself shaking my head with a mix of disbelief, admiration, and laughter.

No subject lies beyond the reach of Cohen’s wry wit—not even God. In “And God Retired,” Cohen describes a God who, “after all the important work” of creating the world was completed, retired and “just for the hell of it…made the earth.”

Cohen also has a knack for bringing attention to familiar, everyday phenomena that usually go unnamed. Such is the case with “The Thing I Was Going to Forget,” in which “the thing I was going to forget” sits on the coffee table, where, he notes, it “established its presence, as if it belonged on the coffee table.” Eventually:

Sure enough I forgot it there
on the coffee table in the living room
where it remains
waiting to surprise me when I come home.

One of my favorite poems in the collection is an understated piece called “Twinkler,” in which Cohen reflects,

I just want to be some place
where I can look at the stars…
maybe some place
where the stars can see me twinkle.

This poem seems to demonstrate Cohen’s insistence on reversing the usual order of things.

The book concludes with a section of brief prose pieces. In a series of imaginative stories, objects ranging from fire hydrants to faucets and mannequins come to life and converse with the narrator. These objects provide their own distinctive perspectives. A mannequin criticizes “grabby humans. You see it. You want to have it. That’s how you are about clothes and about each other—laying claim to all you discover.”

There also are appearances by Binsley, a fictitious character who may be familiar to fans of Cohen’s work. And Cohen treats us to several memoirs. For me, the standout of the “tales” section is the memoir “The Admiral.” The gentle and lovely meditation on a beloved electronic device from the narrator’s childhood turns into a touching meditation on family as well.

Particularly during these times of upheaval and uncertainty, Between the Shadow and the Wall provides a welcome, bracing dose of realism, humor, and a unique perspective from a writer who might just change how you view your universe.


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Abbey J. Porter writes poetry and memoir about people, relationships, and life struggles. She holds an MFA in creative writing from Queens University of Charlotte, an MA in liberal studies from Villanova University, and a BA in English from Gettysburg College. Abbey works in communications and lives in Cheltenham, Pa., with her two dogs.