Jacob Alvarado
Scott Cecchin, House.
Montreal: Vallum, 2022. $12.00.
A long poem told in six parts, Scott Cecchin’s House–winner of the 2022 Vallum Chapbook award–is a haunting, multi-layered exploration of corruption, possession, and the relationship between people and place. “The house flowers / in light. Be– / low that, / dirt. Deeper,” begins “HOUSE”, an opening poem that, besides establishing the prevalence of nature and growth in House, is also quick to establish the world that this chapbook is building. Leaping between multiple speakers, House is defined by the fantastical, yet grounded atmosphere it creates, showcasing the beauty, fragility, and ominousness of a place that’s crumbling from every angle. Whether exploring the sense of suffocation the house creates (“these walls are old hands / that dig into your // chest, and take–”), the envy it generates (“Each Week, as I collect her / garbage, on schedule, I / gaze into the windows, looking / at what’s / mine…”), or the pain that even reflecting on it can cause (Returning // is a salve / that only burns, / like the sound / of water being thrown on / fire”), House offers few bright spots in its examination of how an environment can be damaged by the people within it – and how such environments inflict sicknesses of their own. With lines toward its end that frame the house as a dream that’s slipping away (“The house / recedes behind it– / self. Everything hiding”), House leaves its readers without much clarification while recognizing the importance of our roots (“the sun invites us to our second home; / gravity insists / on our / first”). Is the house a reflection of Cecchin’s childhood home? Does it represent the world we all occupy? Is it a purely fictional creation? Maintaining an air of mystery seems to be a defining quality of this chapbook, but whatever its precise nature may be, House is a skillfully crafted work of poetry that, through its many twists and turns, never fails to provoke thought or to compel its readers to explore every inch of its rooms.
JACOB ALVARADO
is the editorial intern for The Ampersand Review of Writing & Publishing and a 4th-year student in the Creative Writing & Publishing program at Sheridan College. He lives and writes in Orangeville, Ontario.