The Symmetry Terror Eye Sight Here we have a very lo-fi, self-financed and self-published book of poetry by an artist who goes by the pseudonym The Symmetry. The front cover sets out his stable from the off, with odd hand drawn diagrams and typed slogans at all angles. They might appear to be placed rather haphazardly, but if that were the case it would take away meaning and connections from the artist’s chosen name. Well, I hope so, otherwise I’d be inclined to say that it was a rather manufactured effort at ‘craziness’. Reading the slogans themselves gives you a quick insight into the author’s mind, here is a person put upon by a society where “90% of conversation makes [him] sick.” A daunting prospect perhaps, to open up the A5 booklet and delve further into the recesses of his head, but it must be done if we are to learn more about The Symmetry. There are no frills here, it’s pure black and white, photocopy quality, with text falling off the page ever so slightly. The text itself is almost completely unadulterated, there are no pretty pictures to appease the eye, although there are a few of the aforementioned diagrams scattered around. As soon as the page is turned, it goes straight into it, with a three-page poem where The Symmetry focuses on the capitalist society we now live in, how this affects him, and shows a bleak vision of how the future could turn out. It’s not strictly rap of course, but there is a certain flow to most of it. However, it’s during one particular tirade where The Symmetry wants us to just say no that you get a slight sense of A level standards to the poem. With the inclusion of three hand drawn exclamation marks at the end of one line, “Say no to fucking me”, you do get a sense that it’s contrived. Beyond that though, it is mainly a well written piece that will make you think. Next up is a piece entitled “Plasticine”, which at first glance looks like something you’d write when you have nothing to write about. At first, it focuses purely on the fact that The Symmetry is a writer, a fact repeated many times throughout this poem and only slightly expounded upon. And even then, he states what most people would expect a writer to think of himself. However, there is conviction here, there is a genuine sense that this is how he truly feels and therefore this particular piece comes across as sincerely autobiographical. Later on, he delves further into who he is as a writer by naming his influences and informing us what he has taken from them. It’s a very bold statement, choosing the best authors and laying claim to their best qualities gives it a hint of emcee braggadocio at the same time as giving thanks to those who came before him. It’s then time for a change in writing style with the introduction of a short story titled “Tell Me If It’s Real?” The hip hop junkies will be pleased with the Method Man reference, quoting his “Bring The Pain” tune in the title and throughout the story. The story itself is, I hope, a fictitious piece of work about a murder, yet there are obvious parts of the author in it if the previous poems are anything to go by. The focus is on pain, hence the referencing of that particular Meth song, and how it is only pain that can truly show us if we are in reality or not. However, I do not feel that the author is as suited to this particular prose as he is to his poetry. The A level feel is back, but this time in bigger quantities, with the story let down by a poor narrative style that is a bit simplistic. There is an interesting passage about the qualities of Special Brew as thought by the main character/narrator that works well in the context of the act of committing the murder. It gives the story more of a grounding in reality, and it gives it a depth that is missing throughout the rest of this piece. Another positive is the circular motion of the story itself which adds a surreal tinge to it all, and then there is the twist in the tale with the conclusion leaving you in a state of wonder as to whether or not pain is actually the one thing to help us distinguish reality from fantasy. Before going back to the poetry, the author dedicates one page to diagrams and slogans in a similar fashion to the front page. It’s hard to ascertain what the author is trying to achieve her, for me the main diagram represents absolutely nothing. And the phrases used here are not as accessible as others are throughout the book nor do they appear to even correspond to the diagrams or the pieces of writing that sandwich this page. As for the poem that follows in from this, “Scared”, here we have yet another piece of verse focussing on another large part of the author’s personality, his fear/paranoia. Big Brother is here, we’re living in a police state, and The Symmetry is feeling the pressure of being watched. The sentiment here is as easy to decipher as the second poem, with the author keeping it simple to get his point across. However, this simplicity does lend the poem a certain tired, “heard it all before” vibe. After this, even more space is unnecessarily, with a very very brief paean to “squatters and spraycans” followed by two pages, each filled with a symmetrically designed picture. Once more, these do not add anything to he feel of the book and could quite easily have been left out without the actual written work suffering. And rather confusingly, whilst these pages appear to be separators between the penultimate and final poems, this is not clear and it could seem as if these two pieces were actually one, especially considering the last one is untitled. This piece is a short storytelling poem regarding what must be a regular occurrence in The Symmetry’s life, the walk down the road to his friend’s house. Whilst the theme of the whole book is continued here, of all the writing, this is the least politically minded. Only a few mentions of his ideological outlook are briefly touched upon as he describes the journey he is on. Because of this, this piece seems weaker than the rest and is a slightly disappointing end to what is an otherwise well written collection. And although the quality of the publication is of a rather low standard, it is the actual writing that matters. And matter it does. With the added bonus of this publication being free (although the author might request a stamped addressed envelope), then there really is no excuse not to get your hands on a copy, especially if you’re looking beyond the confines of hip hop and are branching out into what could be considered a precursor to rap. To get hold of a copy of Terror Eye Sight, please contact simta@hotmail.com - Mike © ukhh.com 1999 - 2003