Book Review: Damnation and Cotton Candy
Damnation and Cotton Candy. Alan S. Kessler, Leviathan Books, 1 October 2022, Paperback.
Reviewed by Kahlil Crawford.
Damnation and Cotton Candy is the first book of self-published poetry by Alan S. Kessler.
To start off with, the cover art is intriguing: A steel knife dipped in a pool of blood with floating pink cotton. If this scene foreshadows the book’s content, we’re in for a heavy ride. It’s worth noting that the scene is painted by Kessler, skillfully displaying his artistic multidimensionality.
He opens with “Good Business,” a haunting soliloquy about familial loss. A mother’s son dies from “eating Sacred Ideals,” and Kessler reminds us there’s “always room for an industrialist at the feast.”
He then asks Poseidon to purify our rabid existence. However, Kessler’s blood ink is not solely for the Gods or corrupted humanity as he dissects the slow decay and dissipation of insects vis-à-vis rodents while in “Waiting” for the return of the dead.
In “My Prayer,” Kessler illuminates the dark side of carnival life with wheezing clowns & lost children. A taffy-induced death leads to existential rigor mortis reversed by elemental resurrection and redemption via thunder, fire, and wind.
In “Southeast Downtown,” he betrays fatality to defy the sins of class and consumption, while “Not Me” depicts silent burning winds and ashen fields of rain. What remains are Gaelic remnants of prophetic banshees rising from an electric sea of acid.
Kessler is a dark bard, ruminating somewhere between Poe and Osbourne. He is immersed in nocturnal omens and heavy metal. His verses are cloaked in despair yet whisper light, weaving through mythical knots and ebony currents:
“To stop and not move, the water reverberating,
metal and men raking across the land.
The snake lifts its head.”
By the time I got to “Monkey World,” the mood seemed to shift. Though the subject matter remained coarse, it did not emit the prior heaviness. Perhaps due to Kessler having received an advance at this point in the book—a foreshadowing of his potential future as a corrupt literary executive…or worse.
The “Damnation” aspect of this book is most evident in “Death Penalty” and “Father’s Day.” Kessler’s remembrances of his callous, murderous, and adulterous father are blackened alleyways along his creative journey. However, I contend his creative vocation serves as a bright counterpoint to the destructive tenor of his patrilineal legacy.
“Uncle Joe,” “Gram,” “Grandfather’s Place,” and “Mother” offer lighter, albeit dimmed, familial anecdotes. Together, they provide a kaleidoscopic view of Kessler’s deep and intricate family dynamic.
The “Cotton Candy” aspect of this book is (dis)embodied in “Norwood.” Kessler takes us on a semi-psychedelic ride through his carnival youth. The ghosts of his past are not all dark as he ecstatically recalls its joys and oddities…a theme he continues in “Ghost Child” and “Dreams”.
In “Lost Children,” Kessler reflects on old age:
“...where light weaves its veil
between worlds but the passage through…
one dimensional spirits summoned by memory…”
And the timelessness of true love and defiance in the face of death (“An Old Man’s Will”). Finally, in “News Flash,” he pivots to current affairs, questioning our priorities in mass media:
“…why did The News spend twenty minutes on (the death of a comedian)
And only five reporting a fire that killed nine children?”
I wish Kessler had offered more of this commentary across the book. His deep insight and dark wit strips social justice of its commercial gloss. In fact, Alan S. Kessler strips away the emotional lacquer from life itself. He bares his soul, honors the deceased, and attacks the mainstream with semantic spells that blur the line between life and death:
“My mind cries.
I understand
It feels, sees,
paints words
But my heart is mute”