The “wide and green body” of the common is made manifest, observed and explored in This Common Uncommon, the newest book by Rae Howells. Nameless, and seen by many as a “scrubby wasteland”, the poet focuses on a common close to her – West Cross – which is, in fact, richly biodiverse, containing 43 ‘indicator species’ (only 12 are required for it to be designated a priority habitat) and at least 520 species in total. It’s hugely biodiverse, then, but, as is ever the way with our important habitats, now finds itself to be under threat, particularly from attempts towards development.
Howells writes with sensitivity, empathy, liveliness and keen observation on and about this, in several sections which are inhabited by place and plants, humans and animals. With my own Bog Witch book just out, I was particularly interested in where wetlands entered into the book, and how “a swamp” is seen as “a nightmare” by the generic speaker in the poem Common Assumptions, for example. Transmuting widely held views of wetlands as “wastelands” is important to me, and in the poem Bog Body Howells writes on this, with creativity and captivating imagination, giving the body of the Earth life and illuminating our relation to her in that process.
More widely, her common is both common and uncommon (hence the collection’s title), because what lives and breathes here is everyday yet marvellous, within reach yet wonderfully profound, and the poet succeeds in capturing this sense with the ever-ready green ink of her pen. Finely wrought, intelligent, and full of heart, This Common Uncommon is an important book that speaks for nature, land, and species which, too often, we see as silent: a vital tome at a time of urgency..
