Sensation
Author: Colin Graham
ISBN-13: 978-1-9161509-8-0
Publisher: Paper Visual Art Books
Guideline Price: €15
There is a moment in Colin Graham’s memoir, Sensation, when I found myself looking in the mirror of shared memory. Graham is trying on the uniform of his new school, pins scratching, the collar too tight, the angles of childhood straitened by conformities that soon become habits.
I remember the moment as I remember much of the rest of the book’s first phases; growing up in east Belfast, the “melancholy menace”, the morning bus, the milk rounds, Graham with his father, I with my uncle. These early morning transits had something of the infernal about them even then; the diesel engine guttering beneath the cab like an underground fire, the rattling gearstick Charon’s tiller, the city withdrawn, watching.
And even now, I laughed at the same incongruities, the fabulous story of the stuffed otter’s glass eyes one of several comic turns. Graham has a deadpan style of which he is the primary subject, if at one remove; Graham having learned to live, as we did then, inside and beyond ourselves.
So we went to the same school, had the same teachers, and slouched through the same university where we shared the same awkward silences, still governed by the same little snobberies.
All of which made me wonder, what is it in a life that makes it fit for telling, in what style and when? Graham approaches these questions through movements of prose that resemble chamber music: compact, echoing and suggestive. In this, some sequences sing more than others, but the whole is so carefully done as to become articulate, in the sense of a dissection.
Graham is an analytic observer and his memoir the account of how a perspective becomes a personality, whatever the chaos of the subject and the disproportions of its frame. Reading it, I thought about Belfast and the strange pull it has on the imaginations that survive it. There are echoes of other voices in Graham’s book, of Ciaran Carson and the genius satire of The Vacuum, but these too are expressions of Belfast’s unmoored condition. A sea city built on stilts in silt is shifting by its nature, those made there adrift.
Sensation is a brilliant account of one of its citizens’ little odysseys, even if all such journeys offer no return.
Nicholas Allen is Baldwin Professor in the Humanities at the University of Georgia and author of Late Heaney.