Red Ceiling, you’re alright with me. I don’t want to upset a ceiling of red. You’ve been pretty good about releasing some excellent chapbooks with particularly grand old moods. Veering from funny to moving, you embody it all. Part of me really wishes I could give you a hug, as much as one online mysterious entity can give another online mysterious entity a hug. Thus far I’ve only read this one and “Wikipedia says it will pass” by Diana Salier, but that’s going to change.
Peter Hughes wrote this tender chapbook. The chapbook is entitled “Lynn Deeps”. “Lynn Deeps” comes across as a beautiful series of stream-of-consciousness thoughts. If you look at his tiny, microscopic bio in the back you’ll notice he’s been doing this for a while: his first chapbook was all the way back in 1992, back when I was a baby sloth, before I had established my online blogging presence. 1992 men were men, and blogs were a nonsensical term.
How does this read? Well, it’s a gorgeous book. The cover has a wonderful texture to it. And the words themselves give hint of an ongoing journey. For me the mention of “Belgian Funk” immediately gave raise to ‘Belgian New Beat’ in my head. So thanks for that. Thanks a lot that stuff is nearly impossible to get out of my head. A later mention of Joanna Newsom did nothing to get it out as I’m unable to merge a house beat with harp.
Whoever the narrator is speaking to must be pretty familiar with them. Shared experiences, previous jaunts, and late nights passing by not much in particular are mentioned in a soothing manner. As I read this and re-read this I got the sense of a tremendous calm. It felt cyclical to me. There was zero mention of any sort of city or large population center. I kept on seeing damp country in the words. Dogs going for a quiet morning walk and the infinite disappointment of having bars close at a particular hour. While I will never be a resident of the country (I’m much more of a city person) I do enjoy the peace and quiet it brings. Peter clearly agrees as he captures the best moments of living in a low energy area.
There’s a lot going on in these ten pages. Even after reading it a number of times, I can’t necessarily describe all the reasons I enjoy it. It may have to do with the amicable mood of the writing, or the fact that this chapbook was dedicated to Peter’s wife Lynn. Whatever the reason, it is a surprisingly calming and refreshingly unrushed.