Deadpan

Explore the profound depth of human emotion with Deadpan, the tenth poetry collection by acclaimed New Zealand poet James Norcliffe. This paperback edition, measuring 165 x 235 mm and spanning 100 pages, presents a unique blend of introspection and dry humor, making it a must-read for poetry lovers. In Deadpan, Norcliffe skillfully navigates the complexities of later life through the poignant reflections of his introspective narrator, captured beautifully in the first section, ‘Poor Yorick.’ Readers will encounter a rich tapestry of feelings as he juxtaposes joy and sorrow, laughter and loss while contemplating the ephemeral nature of existence. From ‘Scan’ to ‘Travellers in a small Ford,’ each section offers intimate explorations of identity, place, and the passage of time, revealing the absurdity and surrealism of life. Norcliffe’s masterful command of language and his use of mordant wit infuse each poem with precision and insight, making this poetry collection a valuable addition to any literary library. Embrace the ambiguity and uncertainty of life with Deadpan, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the art of poetry. Perfect for those who appreciate the nuances of contemporary poetry, this collection invites readers to reflect deeply as they journey through its pages.

Author: James Norcliffe Publisher: Otago University Press
Bind: paperback
Dimensions: 165 x 235 x 10 mm
Pages: 100


The title of James Norcliffe’s tenth poetry collection points deftly to the way it conveys big emotions without cracking a smile or shedding a tear. In Deadpan, Norcliffe writes in an alert, compassionate yet sceptical voice. The book’s first section, ‘Poor Yorick’, shares the thoughts of an introspective narrator as he contends with the travails of later life. ‘In his hospital pyjamas’, Yorick is by turns cheerful and beset by loss, laughing and weeping, comparing the stages of life (and death). The following sections - ‘Scan’, ‘Trumpet Vine’, ‘Telegraph Road’ and ‘Travellers in a small Ford’ - reach around to mine experience in a world where ‘nothing lasts’; not childhood, place nor identity. An appropriate response to this ephemeral world is to embrace ambiguity, uncertainty, absurdity and surrealism. ‘Deadpan,’ writes the author in his introductory essay, ‘is the porter in Macbeth pausing to take a piss while there is that urgent banging at the gate. It is Buster Keaton standing unmoved as the building crashes down on top of him. It is my poker-faced Yorkshire grandfather playing two little dicky birds sitting on the wall.’ These poems are concise and contained, using supple, precise language and a gleam of dry and mordant wit. Deadpan is the work of a mature and technically astute poet who is one of New Zealand’s leading writers.