American Means – David Oprava (reviewed by Marc Thomas)


When I was given d. e. oprava’s new epic poem American Means for review, I thought, “Pants. It’s an epic. That’s longer than I want a poetry book to be if I’m reviewing it.” This, together with the entirely undercase spelling of Oprava’s name (which I always think is far more than pretentious – as if correct spelling was not good enough for them) and one of the grizzliest covers I have seen in a long time made me want to read this book as much as I want someone to hit me with a fiery poker. Sorry. (personally, I liked the cover, and the design of the book! – N)


American Means is actually a rather spectacular attempt ultimate désespoir of


to portray the the current social and economic climate of North


America. And it happens to be a fairly interesting story as well as a commentary.


Comparisons have been made between Oprava and Walt Whitman, which I think is unfair on Whitman who was an unspeakably better poet than Oprava (no offence David). If I had to compare him to anyone, I would probably choose Charles Bukowski or at a stretch, the narrative style of Steinbeck. The difference between Oprava and Whitman is perhaps also the fact that Whitman is positive and celebratory about the New America; Oprava’s America is on its last legs.


Try this one out for size: “She dons a deflowered dress, presses her lips to the taffeta and tries to mend her regret, maybe she can fix this stain into an outfit for the second-coming, a new innocence, a welfare check for her and the kid.” While you might expect an almost heartbreakingly realistic line to appear on the 20th or 30th page of a book, this one is a page 3 model of an entirely ‘other’ kind.


There’s usually a certain degree of romanticism in the literature surrounding economic decline and moral/morale breakdown. Oparava didn’t see the need apparently. Sure, the last chapter of the book is entitled ‘Hope’, but


the word, like in Obama’s speech seems like it should really be replaced by


‘Desperation’. There doesn’t actually seem to be any chance of retribution or concrete solution - perhaps that is the point though, there is no solution given. If there is a finite number of ways to describe a recession or sad situation, Oprava has a go at listing them all.


At 90 pages, it’s definitely an epic and just believe me when I say that it doesn’t follow ‘hills and valleys’ emotionally – it’s all pretty much a downer.


Woody Allen said, “I shall walk through the valley of the shadow of death... In fact, now that I think of it, I shall run through the valley of the shadow of death, cos' you get out of the valley quicker that way.” David Oparava doesn’t share the same viewpoint as Allen. In fact, he pulls out a decrepit deckchair, moth-eaten sun hat and camps down right in the middle where the wild beasts of the death of America are playing.


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