Randomly Moving Particles

by Sir Andrew Motion

Randomly Moving Particles is built from two long poems that form its opening and close, connected by three shorter pieces. The title poem, in a kaleidoscope of compelling scenes, engages with subjects that include migration, placement, loss, space exploration and current British and American politics. It is a clarifying action and reaction between terra and solar system, mundanity and possibility, taking us from the grit of road surfaces to the distant glimpses of satellites. The final poem, 'How Do the Dead Walk', combines mythic reach with acute observation of the familiar, in order to address issues of contemporary violence. It is altogether more dreamlike, even in its tangibly military moments, grasping as it does at phantoms and intermediate plains.Andrew Motion's expansive new poetry collection is direct in its emotional appeal, ambitious in its scope, all the while retaining the cinematic vision and startling expression that so freshly lit the lines of his last, Essex Clay .

Genres: Poetry

120 pages, Paperback

Published January 1, 2022

Reviews

[Dan J. Z · Rating 4 out of 5]

Engrossed in a podcast on the poetry bona fides of Bob Dylan; thoughtlessly perusing a favourite East London book store, I stumble upon two collections authored by the very voice I’m listening to.

Taken by serendipity, I remove the two books from the shelf, ensconce myself in a chair and put my mind to selecting which I’d be purchasing. No excruciating discernment was required as the following words hit me like a ton of bricks:

That Christmas I ran through fire in London
Carrying my old Father across my shoulders.
My mother too, she followed. You alive, alas,
I could not bring.

Andrew Motion strikes me as a poet of plain language and jarring motifs (at least in this collection); at moments sparse to the point of desolation, allowing for certain images to break through and take on a glowing resonance:

In the long dark before spring arrives,
A skinned log, chewed off and leprous,
Offers itself as a ray of sunlight trapped.

Randomly Moving Particles maintains this precarious balance of the quotidian and the profound, and always finds itself contemplating the spectre of Death; whether with subtlety in the titular poem or head on in the ambitious, four-part narrative work, How The Dead Walk. He does so with a hand searching always, honest in it’s trembling but never daunting.

Knowing a little more about Motion’s previous work, I think in time people will recognise just how ambitious this publication is, and one which succeeds much of the time.

[Brooks Harris · Rating 3 out of 5]

Okay, I'll be honest: I did not "finish"-finish it, but I'm going to say I did because I read the first half which was like comprised of longer-length selected poems, which I liked quite a bit; then the second half is one epic poem, which I'm not as crazy about and don't see myself finishing in 2023. Alas. In general, I feel when it comes to books of poetry you're allowed to say you "read" them even though you have not read them cover-to-cover, word-for-word, since there's a good chance (at least in my case) that you'll revisit them again.

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

I preferred the first part. I did a cursory review of Hercules' stories before reading 'How Do the Dead Walk' but I'm sure I missed a lot of nuance.