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The Art of the Chapbook

THE ART OF THE CHAPBOOK
presented by Bloof Books for the Belfast Poetry Festival

THE ART OF THE CHAPBOOK is an exhibition curated by Shanna Compton of Bloof Books for the 19th annual Belfast Poetry Festival, October 17–20, 2024. The exhibition consists of two parts—THE CABINET contains 40+ chapbooks, and a secondary BROWSING STATION nearby offers 60+ chapbooks available for visitors to read on site. The exhibition is open throughout the weekend during Waterfall Arts hours.

Waterfall Arts
2nd Floor + Dance Annex
256 High Street
Belfast, Maine

Shanna will present a brief introduction during the festival’s kickoff event at 6:00 p.m. on Thursday, October 17. The exhibition is open throughout the weekend during Waterfall Arts hours.

WHAT IS A CHAPBOOK? A small booklet of writing, often staple-bound or sewn. Length may be anywhere from a single folded page with multiple panels to a bound format of 35–40 pages, much shorter than a traditional book. In contemporary scenes, chapbooks typically contain poetry, but also short stories, poetry comix, and hybrid creative texts. (Informational/nonfictional works in short form are more likely to be called pamphlets or tracts.) Unlike traditionally published poetry collections, chapbooks offer poets a more accessible opportunity to be inventive, spontaneous, and variable about how they choose to publish. Chaps are often illustrated, created from repurposed or unexpected materials, and may incorporate other features traditional books tend not to accommodate. Akin to zines, their distribution is also a bit unorthodox—poets and small presses offer them for direct sale at readings, through group exchanges, and by annual subscription, though they can also often be found at bookfairs, artist markets, and indie bookshops that know what’s up. (Check the Local Author section!)

HISTORICALLY, as far back as the 12th century, street peddlers known as chap men traveled town to town, offering a variety of small objects for sale, including (eventually, a few centuries later) small books and pamphlets, or single sheets printed on both sides designed for the buyer to fold and bind themselves. The word chap (from Middle English chep, from Old English cēap, meaning trade) over time took on the connotation of bargain as well, resulting in the English word cheap. (Skipping a lot here, obviously.) By the 1850s, traditional books and newspapers had become more readily available, making the chapbook format obsolete . . . unless you’re a poet, that is. 

Chapbooks have ecstatically persisted as a vibrant element within various poetry scenes, because their immediacy, authenticity, and quirky appeal endures. Countless self-published and small-press titles continue to be released and collected year after year. These days chapbooks are sometimes cheap and sometimes not, ranging in materials from photocopies on plain paper bound by a couple of staples to handset letterpress sheets sewn into specialty covers. I hope this exhibition inspires you to collect (or create!) some of your own.

BEFORE, BETWEEN, & BEYOND BOOKS As you explore the collection you’ll find poets publishing chapbooks before their first books, between their longer books, and as a site for more experimental projects that require going beyond the confines of a traditional book.

LIST OF WORKS—CABINET Left to right, beginning at lower shelf
(Links TK, please check back!)

1. The Gertrude Spicer Story (Act Two), Jared Hayes (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2010) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

2. Writing in the Margin, Matvei Yank-elevich (Loudmouth Collective, 2001)

3. Residence, Meredith Clark (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2010) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

4. going going, Jen Hofer (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2007)

5. trouble, Jen Hofer (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2010) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

6. Memory/Incision, Joseph Cooper (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2007)

7. Hounds, Alli Warren (self-published, 2005)

8. Conversation with the Stone Wife, Natalie Eilbert (Bloof Books, 2014) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

9. To Do in the New Year, Anna Lena Phillips (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2013)

10. the roof of locked shields, Kaia Sand (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2010) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

11. First the Burning, Catie Rosemurgy (Bloof Books, 2018 ) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

12. Friendship with Things, Elaine Equi (The Figures, 1998)

13. Into the Darkness We Go, Mimi White (The Cougar Press, 1982)

14. Psychic Head Set, Mike Hauser (Mitzvah Chaps, 2008)

15. Now See Here, Homes, Horace Mungin (Brothers’ Distributing Co., 1969)

16. Is Holy, Matthew Henriksen (Horse Less Press, 2006)

17. Out of Bounds, Harry Mathews (Burning Deck, 1989)

18. Mountain Sparrow, Jessica Powers (Carmel of Reno, 1972)

19. Red Book in Three Parts, Bernadette Mayer (United Artists Books, 2002)

20. Spells for Black Wizards, Candace Williams (The Atlas Review / TAR Chapbook Series, 2018)

21. The Woman, the Mirror, the Eye, Maureen Thorson (Bloof Books, 2015) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

22. 13 Osips, Maureen Thorson (Big Game Books, 2006)

23. Postcard Poems, Stephanie Young & Cassie Lewis (Poetry Espresso / Cassie Lewis, 2002)

24. I Hate Telling You How I Really Feel, Nikki Wallschlaeger (Bloof Books, 2015) // HARDCOVER VERSION HERE

25. Slaves of Christo, Julia Hall & Chrissy Leggio (Brooklyn Artists Alliance, 2005)

26. All the Aldas, Daniel Kane & Gillian Kane (Evil Twin Publications, 2002)

27. something else the music was, Eric Baus (Braincase Press, 2004)

28. Falling Forward, Sara Veglahn (Braincase Press, 2003)

29. Drummer, Chad Reynolds (Greying Ghost, 2015)

30. Self-Portrait as a Dictionary of Symbols, Shannon Holman (self-published, 2002)

31. 99-Cent Heart, Ada Limón (Big Game Books, 2006)

32. Le Animal & Other Creatures, Metta Sáma (Miel, 2015)

33. O New York, Trey Sager (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2004)

34. Diary, Carrie Hunter (self-published for Dusie Kollektiv, 2010) // PDF AVAILABLE HERE

35. Route, Julia Cohen & Matthias Svalina (Immaculate Disciples Press, 2012)

36. Mental Commitment Robots, Sueyen Juliette Lee (Portable Press at Yo-Yo Labs, 2007)

37. 100 Multiple Choice Questions, John Ashbery (Adventures in Poetry, 2001)

38. Tachistoscope, Stanley Donwood (The Hedonist Press, 2003)

+ a few bonus/unnumbered things! (aka, a rotating handful of out-of-print Bloof Books chaps, 2015–2023) including I Prefer the Forests Making Blankets from Themselves, CAConrad (PDF COMING SOON); Take Me to the Water, Irene Vázquez (PDF AVAILABLE HERE); Hymn: An Ovulution, Mel Coyle & Jen Marie Nunes (PDF AVAILABLE HERE).

Black and white photo of the exhibition's browsing station, a table with a large wire rack stuffed full of poetry chapbooks of all shapes and sizes. A hand-lettered chalkboard sign next to the rack asks visitors to BROWSE, ADMIRE, READ, GET INSPIRED.

BROWSING STATION Too many to include in this exhibition guide, but we will post the full list and links online here after the festival has concluded. Please check back!

BLOOF CHAPBOOKS are available to order here

A black and white photo of several current Bloof chapbooks, each featuring a linocut cover. They are arranged in a 4 x 2 grid.

ABOUT BLOOF BOOKS
Bloof Books is a collective poetry press founded by Shanna Compton in 2007 in Brooklyn, NY to publish the second books of three poets she’d worked with at Soft Skull Press in the mid 2000s. The press relocated to Blue Hill, Maine, in 2021 after about a dozen years in the Delaware Valley (New Hope, PA/Lambertville, NJ). The collective consists of all the poets we have published to date, who are invited to read submissions, suggest new projects, and enthusiastically advocate for each other by reviewing, teaching, and sharing other members’ work. We publish paperback poetry collections and handmade poetry chapbooks, usually with linocut covers. Bloof is more akin to a group art project than to a business. We are/will always remain an independent small press—a micropress, in fact. We are “tiny by design.” bloofbooks.com @bloofbooks

ABOUT THE CURATOR
Shanna Compton is a poet, printmaker, and book artist in Blue Hill, ME. She is the author of five books of poems, most recently Creature Sounds Fade (Black Lawrence Press) and Midwinter Constellation (coauthor, Black Lawrence Press). Her poems have appeared in publications such as the NationAmerican Poetry Review, the Academy of American Poets Poem-a-Day series, and The Best American Poetry anthology series. As a visual artist, she works in linocut, collage, monotype, screen print, and mixed media. She also freelances as a book designer for many of your favorite indie publishers. shannacompton.com @hiwaterpress

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Untitled [I want you to come now!]

Living room, Arthur Smith, Architectural Digest, October 1983.
Living room / Arthur Smith, Architectural Digest, October 1983.
I want you to come now!
I want you to come now at the latest!
Bring your pocket calculator.
And the grand piano.
Bring band-aids aspirin eau de cologne and antiseptic soap
a bottle of seltzer a bottle of gin a bottle of whisky
and toothbrush mug
a bottle of Ajax and a large pack of sleeping pills a houseplant
a pizza
and a respirator.
I want you to come now!
Only you should come now at the very latest!
And take me by storm.
Turn out the lights.
And light the candelabras.
You should unplug the telephone jack.
And blow up the air mattresses.
You should dry my tears and talk some sense to me.
When the sun goes down behind the Opera House.
And it’s time to go home.
Then you should come to me.
With your heart.
And your shotgun.
So I’ll never lose my temper again.
In a tastefully furnished living room.
So I’ll never stand on the window ledge again.
Looking a little stupid.
With a dog rose in my hand.
So I’ll never creep through the subways again
with an embarrassing song.
On my broken lips.
You have to come now, now at the very latest!
Simply because I can’t stand it otherwise.
Simply because it’s so damn persistent.
Simply because I’m a totally ordinary woman.
Completely healthy and moderately overweight.
Somewhat domestic, helpful and nervous.
Kind and sweet and very scared.
With general interests and an untapped literary vein.

(1983)

__
Kristina Lugn, translated by Elizabeth Clark Wessel
from Seeking an Older, Well-Educated Gentleman
(Bloof Books Chapbook Series, 2019)

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A Version of Maine

Raspberries (1890s)
Raspberries, Annual Report from the Commissioner of Agriculture, NYS (1890s) from Internet Archive Book Images 

A Version of Maine

“Am I then this one fact forever,” he said…
“Until time runs out,” she said, pushing
Her golden bangs away from her eyes. Oh,

And the maples were
Already splotched with burning.

Snow filled the muddy footprint.
You could tell they were in for it.

Sore appendages. Raw throats.
Why did we keep returning
To bear witness to the same truth: something
In here is living with us.

We ate again. Sausages, wild rice—
A salad of lettuces.

A new average settled in. The unspoiled time
Of the future lay inside a forked past.

“The mice are well-fed at least,” she blurted out.
It was evening. The moonlight did something to her.
To him. Oily crumbs of stars on the newsprint sky.
We all laughed. We had another one.

__
Douglas PiccinniniVictoria
(Bloof Chapbook Series, 2019)

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Metaphor at 12:47 am

colorful mural
Photo by Ali Morshedlou on Unsplash

There will always be a gun at your back. Or
                                                                                         your front. Or 
somewhere near where your fear 
churns. 

And it is not your job to defer the end. Or the bleeding. 
It is your job to keep the heart 
pumping. 
Its violent living and scarlet song. Some would even 
say that 
maybe the gun is a 
device. 
That perhaps, it is actually 
Love. 
Because love can stop the heart's 
heaving or push it to a sure                    sprint. And 
maybe you can stop Love, but it is not your job to. Maybe the gun 
is a metaphor for Loving and being Loved and fearing the person 
who has a gun to your back. That they will 
one day use it to kill 
You. 
And fearing someone with 
something you do not have. Or maybe, 

A gun is a gun 
And you are trying to 
Survive.

 

Dakotah Jennifer, Fog
(Bloof Chapbook Series, 2019)

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(From) a simple verb

Pink letters scattered on a white wall
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash

 

the simple verb is only as good as its distractions. the brain is good
for a ride if you hold on. the brain takes a breath / memory
evacuates. the pen is in an undisclosed location. the song pulls you
firmly into the seat of a car. fuzz goes the voice of the future. fuzz
goes the voice of the lovers. you are making a distinction here. you
are holding the blank in your hand. you, the immediate soft
crumble.

pressed between two safe bodies in an undisclosed location you
watch understanding bloom. one hand to okay you. a reenactment
of forever’s face and its sick trill.

you & i & the immediate instinct to blank.

somewhere nearby a series of people walk to a series of
destinations. some seal a thought in plastic before dipping it deep
into steaming water. an idea takes a breath.

a memory chokes on itself.

//

 

JJ Rowan, from a simple verb
(Bloof Chapbook Series, 2019)

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Salado

Iguana
By Gerrit Jan Schouten , 1884., Public Domain

 

Salado

In Maracaibo, being unlucky translates

to salty. You are salado, brackish, bad luck

swallows you and spits you out like an ocean

wave. It is never done with you. I am

salty. Mama found an iguana under

the kitchen table this morning. While everyone

was out scaring the green monster away, I

sprayed her French perfume on my hand. It smelled

like her during hugs post-dinners—its fragrance lingers

on her plastic-covered couches. Scent particles flew

into a fan, a brushed nickel finish apparatus,

and out into her bedroom. I held out my hand

in front of the fan, as if it to stop physics. it chopped

off my fingertip. As my relatives clean the bloodspots

from my dress—they’re huddled up around me, on their knees

the iguana they chased off earlier is walking

underneath my bed. I’ll drop something at night,

and when the lights are off, feel

its scales through my bandage.

 

Ana Hurtado, Miedo al Olvido: Poems from an Uprooted Girl
(Bloof Books Chapbook Series, 2019)

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Unsolved Mystery

Golden Hand
Photo by MUILLU on Unsplash

 

Unsolved Mystery

Think about where you have been in your life
     thus far

& think about suburban America 1995–present.
     Tell me more

about beheadings. Look up there,
     the girl-in-the-guillotine, sword-in-sheath.

The first girl I kissed I told her I loved her,
     gold blade to my throat.

I sent her more love than could fit.
     Wax stamp of crest, sigil,

tattoo of initial(s), what brand
     of unfortunate

as if a town-square ritual, body-outlier,
     unsolved mystery, revealed.

 

Katie Jean ShinkleRat Queen
(Bloof Chapbook Series, 2019)