Death Magazine

by Matthew Haigh

Death Magazine is a neutropian vision of our soundbite, snippet-obsessed, digital and print magazine culture. It employs the Dadaist technique of cut-up to produce poems that range from the blackly comic to the surreal, from the nonsensical to the prescient.

Many of the poems confine themselves to the precise aesthetics of magazine columns, doing away with line breaks entirely to find new meaning in their Modernist forms. Added to the mix are a range of free verse poems more traditional in form. This monster hybrid of styles, of fact and fiction, aims to replicate the untrustworthy, hyperbolic stream of media that absorbs our lives every day.

This radical work creates a futuristic landscape of human emotion as product – a pink, shattered diamond refracting our chaotic times

Genres: Poetry

64 pages, Paperback

Published June 15, 2019

Reviews

[Marc · Rating 4 out of 5]

As part of excuse for binge book buying my single-handed effort to save the book publishing industry and authors during the pandemic, I forced my family to live in tents in a wooded highway median and began spending our housing budget on books.I had heard good things about the UK small press Salt Publishing and this is one of the purchases I made from them in 2020. I almost never buy books based on covers despited loving cover design/art; however, this cover combined with the following description was irresistible: "...a neutropian vision of our soundbite, snippet-obsessed, digital and print magazine culture."

Employing "the Dadaist technique of cut-up," Haight provides a comedically dark assortment of verse ranging from the profound to the indecipherable. There's an advice-column/celebrity/self-improvement kind of superficiality underlying many of these pieces as he warps them into something well beyond their original intent/purpose. Little barbed verses got hooked on the folds in my gray matter and it's unlikely they'll ever shake loose.
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Partial Excerpts for Your Disturbance:
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"Stop trying to be sad all next century.
Squats, bro -- chin to win.
Robot chefs supply us with glowing, pink eggs.
They've been sucked inside America, ghostly, unfeeling."
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"To be honest, our whole lives are unnecessary. The fabric of life
is thick silver, fruitless. The person you love has a 100 percent
chance of embarking on a kitchen renovation project. We think
of death as the heart of the house."
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"Bank notes rest on us like weird plastic birds.
There's one on your eyelid."
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"Floral prints will carry you like burnt out circuits.
Whatever is on the agenda, printed mules and crying
just go together. None of us wants to be a machine
trying to escape... "

[Paul Mullen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Poetry is such a mixed bag. You put your hand in and, without looking, every now and again, pull out a gem. I've been a long time admirer of Salt, a publisher with a great reputation, and a habit for finding wholly fascinating, unique, unquantifiable voices. Matthew Haigh is certainly that; a poet with limitless imagination, perilous wit, uncompromising vision, and the sort of surreal stylistic intensity that, even when a little lost, floating in that maelstrom of Haigh's skewered universe of imagination, you feel nothing but entirely compelled to keep rereading until you either know, or feel satisfied not knowing. Does that make sense? Probably not. I guess you just need to read this stunning collection to find out.

Let us, first of all, talk aesthetics. The cover is magnificent. A triumph of design, and appropriately dramatic. After all, my overwhelming thought after turning the final page of this collection was that Haigh, in his shrewdly quaint and somewhat enterprising way, has torn our obsession with image, identity, labels and obsessive compulsive quest for utopia TO SHREDS. Of course, this poetry is far cleverer than just that - I figured that a poet who begins, in opening poem 'Death Magazine', with "How to leave a gym-fit corpse" has something on his mind about the current consumerist condition.

Cultural references penetrate the heart of this collection. The poems are divided into sections that represent those in a populist magazine: FEATURES, FITNESS, LIFESTYLE, BEAUTY, WELLNESS, ADVICE. This structural device is not just quirk; it serves to expose the machine that feeds us what we think we need (or what we need to think), and what we glorify, prioritise, and swear by in favour of what really matters. In his poem, 'Interview with a New Father' (based on an actual OK! magazine interview with fitness guru, Joe Wicks), Haigh slaughters our twenty-first century ideals, albeit tongue-in-cheek. "Did you cry when she was born?" the reporter in this poem asks. "I made myself / go upstairs in the absence / of light, to my home gym, / and smash the ocean floor," is the response. Narcissism over family. Is that where we're at? Maybe it is. "What does fatherhood mean to you?" the interview continues. "I wanted to work out - it / made me go upstairs to my / ocean floor," is the response. Makes your skin crawl, doesn't it? Such is the world we live.

The section FITNESS spans eleven poems, all of which have famous male icons as titles. From Brad Pitt to Bruce Lee, Jake Gyllenhaal to Marlon Brando, Haigh uses these cult figures and mostly alpha-male temples of masculinity to quantify a seemingly sardonic and desolate form of happiness. Christian Bale "trained / six hours a day, six days a week, for six months to / bottle a happier future". When channeling Chris Hemsworth, it becomes evident that "Bicep-curling thunder makes / men feel unworthy"... "Suffice it to say, "bodybuilding / is the core of battle". Men are shamed for having anything less than a magazine fit, front cover body these days. It has become a core obsession for the (mostly) young and easily influenced to achieve this veiny, rippled, utopian Godliness. In the poem 'Bruce Lee', Haigh hits on one of his most profound lines in the collection: "by keeping young males busy, you / keep them insignificant". Now that's perception.

For a life to find happiness, there must be meaning. Haigh uses dark humour as a vehicle to critique our quest for happiness: "The person you love has a 100 percent / chance of embarking on a kitchen renovation project" ('A Luxurious Death'). In 'Reptile Your Relationship' Haigh asserts: "Many of the fears and beliefs you emulate are the / wings of adulthood". His art is in the provocative sense of self, and self-worth, that infiltrates these poems. Generations develop habits - it just so happens that ours are "Youtubeing digestive health into the night" ('Passionflower Your Sleep Routine'). Doesn't this stop you in your tracks and make you wonder? We are guilty (it seems to me, with social media and consumer culture) to have "crafted your craved reflection" (What Will Your Sims Do Now?). This is a poet that gets your brain fizzing; starts you questioning the 'real' within our constructed 'reality'.

Sexuality provides another independent reading. In 'We Will Not Become the Cloud, the Cloud Will Become Us', Haigh refers to the disturbing reality that being gay can cost you your life in some countries: "I'd be hanged in some places just for loving him-", culminating in the horrifying image of "masked men hurling other men from rooftops". In response to the fact that Haigh "preferred playing with Barbie as a boy", his "grandparents thought it meant [he] would turn out funny" (Vintage Barbie Chest of Drawers). There is an irony in 'How Adorned Is the Pink Authority' - it has been a long time coming for the gay community to acquire any sort of voice, and yet "The bank is gay now, Sainsbury's is gay". Of course, it has not always been that way - Haigh states "We were gay before it was cool, back / when you could expect a good beating".

'Death Magazine' is a powerful collection that really got me thinking. There are elements of stream-of-consciousness, that are equally absorbing as the vision behind this work. Sometimes, when reading poetry, you have to learn not to hang on every word and just ENJOY every word instead: "I just...like snow so / much. I always carry it in my bag". Well, I like snow too, Matthew, let me tell you! I like it a little bit more now.

A witty, astute, radical, often strange, weirdly mesmerising, and always compelling debut full-length collection. Matthew Haigh is a voice with a bright future.

[Goodreeds User · Rating 3 out of 5]

A mixed bag of strange and silly poems - some of these kick ass (Dementia as a Computer Game Glitch especially is breathtaking) and some of them are, like, I guess a bit lacking. Like there's bits that would make you chuckle but anything beyond that is either too cryptic or it would feel like a stretch to impose a meaning over..... I guess maybe this is intentional, with the book imitating a magazine and playing with the formal properties of columns and Q&As as well as generating glossy Dada-deluxe content, but it does mean some parts of the collection leave you wanting more. Idk. A lot to like, but I wasn't taken by everything. I feel like this might be too harsh - it's got a unique character to it, so maybe it'll click more on a second read. And it's light and breezy too, so a second read is a very viable option!

[Serge ♆ Neptune · Rating 4 out of 5]

Favourite poems: How Adored is the Pink Authority, Passionflower your Sleep Routine, Memento, Oculus.

[Emma · Rating 5 out of 5]

With an intriguing cover already pulling me in, I had no idea how intense this reading experience would be. And WOW. Blimey. It’s SO good!

The poems are categorised into themes with headings similar to the contents of a magazine; beauty, lifestyle, advice, topics we’re all familiar with. This theme has a dominating presence throughout the collection. We often organise our life into sections and label them with appropriate headings. However quite often we find this is a ruse. Like most magazines it’s all a lie, fake news and gossip. But we continue to purchase our copies in hopes that one day, the lie will become true. Prepare to dive into some explicit poetry. 

Upon reading the FITNESS section, I noticed that the poems were all named after famous actors such as Brad Pitt and Will Smith. Each one mentioned the strain and stress that their bodies underwent when preparing for a role. They all used dangerous ways to get in shape and yet it is still treated as fitness. Haigh used parts from articles found in Men’s Health to concoct these poems. It’s mind-boggling why these unhealthy regimes would be advertised, let alone in a men’s health magazine. And that’s the sheer brilliance of it dear reader. Haigh has used this very ironic stance to highlight his themes and context boldly in his poetry. That the world and its residents are hypocrites. We are all guilty of it, yet we continue to deny it. Human nature is a strange one isn’t it? Haigh makes you question a lot about the world we live in.

Haigh uses not only striking and thought provoking imagery in his poetry but he presents the harsh reality of what we have become. Consumption has drained our energy and strength forcing us to remain weak and dependent on our material world. In Treating Depression with H.R. Giger a painting is mentioned and described in graphic detail. The painting is titled O’Bannon’s Alien D2 and leaves a disturbing realisation of our weaknesses. Seriously dear readers, if you haven’t seen this painting, check it out. It will leave you with chills. H.R. Giger was a fantastic artist that captured humans and machines embraced together in a cold bio-mechanical relationship. He also brought us the haunting imagery that we all know and love from the Alien films. Haigh’s homage of this ongoing theme in his poetry is hypnotic to read.

It was not surprising to discover that all of the poems from the BEAUTY section had been mixed together from blog posts found on the Goop website. One look at their website and you are led to believe that this is a clean, professional place to send out wellness. Haigh not only shows the reader, but asks them: What is beauty? Is it waking up in the morning and downing a glass of hate or smearing lotions and potions all over our bodies in hopes to erase our time upon earth? There is so much to learn from these poems that we have only begun to dent the surface.

I give Death Magazine By Matthew Haigh a Five out of Five paw rating.

These poems are beyond mesmerising. With themes of pop culture, sci-fi and our never-ending greed to consume, there is a lot to indulge in here. Haigh has not only picked up that dusty neglected snow globe sitting on the fire place and given it a shake. He has smashed it to pieces, emptied out all the glitter, handcrafted figures and fake snow before constructing a new, more accurate version of our world. And my word dear reader, will it leave you lost for words…

[Emma Rowson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Death Magazine is split into sections, a mimicry of an actual magazine; Features, Fitness, Lifestyle, Beauty, Wellness and Advice. With a satirical eye cast over popular culture, Matthew Haigh uses varied poetic structures, and the use of actual magazine articles as source material is brilliant. Most successful of all is how magnificently successful it is in the observation of the here and now by creating lingering imagery and of course, the release is somewhat timely, with us all living stripped back lives and forced to reflect on what is actually important. For me, the poem ‘Hot Pink’ was thought provoking. It was, in fact, one of the poems that had me thought spiral. The idea of make up and paranoia, the idea of chasing immortality…..I’m currently on day…whatever we’ve reached of lockdown, and my make up bag remains closed, my brushes redundant. Three months ago this would be unheard of, or would have heralded some form of incoming breakdown or collapse. But, I’ve never felt more free. Getting up in the mornings without the faff of painting my face is much quicker. It kind of begs the question – for whom was I performing this daily ritual for?!

I digress…..as I find is the case with all poetry, just as some of this grabbed me, some of it flew whistling at speed over my head. And that’s fine. For me, poetry is not about achieving an academic understanding, but its about emotional connection. To grab me, it has to mean something and there were so many poems in this collection that I loved. A very few which deserve special mention from me; Simulacrum gave me goosebumps, How Adored Is The Pink Authority is fantastic – particularly the imagery of the mind being coaxed by a chrome spatula (brilliant!) – A Luxurious Death appealed to me for its err on the side of the macabre, and Dementia As A Video Game Glitch is heartbreaking and yet inspired.

As a woman, I admit to more often than not sticking to female poets. I was worried whether I’d lack the emotional connection with a male poet at the helm. Refreshingly, however, this collection is, alongside its observations of humanity – also very vulnerable and eye opening in that the whole insta-happy, body image obsessed world is not in any way gender specific in the damage it wreaks.

Death Magazine has obliterated the rusty whir of my poetry brain. Insightful, laden with incredible imagery and thought provoking themes. I devoured Death Magazine, and then went back again for more. One of the reviews on the back page refers to it as ‘kaleidoscopic’ and I honestly cannot think of a more perfect way to describe it.

[Jessica Drake-Thomas · Rating 4 out of 5]

"I will say my skull is a gleamy sheet of metal. It’s pretty and sheer. Your body smells so good, like the air. I’m really into the good stuff all over your heart," the speaker says in Matthew Haigh's collection of poems.
The book is set up in sections, like a magazine. It takes on how bodies are portrayed in the media, particularly male bodies, and the bizarre ways that the media tends to play into toxic masculinity. The main point of the book is that beneath the filters, there are people, and not necessarily happy or fulfilled ones.
In the poem, "Brad Pitt," the speaker says, "Despite the black/comedy of self improvement, Pitt/ruined it for everyone." It's a solid opening line, particularly since it's so wry and rings true. There's an odd duality to the concept of self-improvement: is it really improving oneself, or is it the pursuit of embodying an unrealistic ideal? I feel like it really is a black comedy. This sentence really does well to set the tone for the piece and to draw the reader in immediately.
"Google What is that/rainbow of moss/that runs from Pitt’s/hip to his crotch?" the speaker says, evoking the sense that Pitt is some sort of ultraterrestrial/Fae King.
What I love about these pieces (because he does several and they're all fabulous) is that they seem to spiral outward, becoming more bizarre as they progress. Except Haig's craft is flawless, drawing the reader along with him as he makes a commentary on societal expectations and how truly odd they are.
"He was seen using/a glass carapace in/primary colours, but/he has yet to share/his method," the speaker says, thus ending the poem, which is disappointing, because I'm left curious to know what that method is. Suddenly, Pitt has become a large rainbow cicada, thanks to his self-improvement rituals. Regardless, this is a masterful ending to this poem which is both lovely and hysterically funny. I really enjoyed reading this book. Haig's poetry is a combination of lush description, acerbic wit, and dark humor. It's such an interesting and surprising collection, where absurdity is combined with a deep sense of pathos and understanding of what it means to be human in the Digital Era. It is well worth a read.

[Juliano · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Lie on the sofa and understand: life has burst into tears. The world is in me; you feel so much you fall in light. You never understand just how much you’re going to love this giant deep sea isopod.” Matthew Haigh’s collection of poems, Death Magazine, is a big, clever “fuck you” to language, a new and inventive way of thinking about and communicating the valley between meaning and effect. Brimming with pop culture references, wry gay energy and poems constructed from the ruins of such publications as Men’s Health + Goop, Haigh is rethinking modern life from the ground up in these poems, in which ideas of masculinity “hit men like a shitload of gender-baggage.” Haigh treads a fine line between significance and irreverence, proclaiming that he “treat[s] depression by soaking up this climate, in which the world’s screaming carcass is parsed & picked clean. / Let me keep the perfumed meat, only.” I loved the queerness of these poems, in how they skewer language + form with subtle glee, and in how they frame queer thought, how they straddle campness, culture and craft with effortless grace — above all else I love how the strange phrasing turns within the slow churn of disintegrating language so often churns up something deeply resonant: “The first thing I do when I wake up is hate.”

[Christina · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dadaist- an avant garde movement in early 20 Century Europe. Often called an anti-art movement.

When I read the above definition I wasn’t sure if Death Magazine would be for me. I love order and clear statements. I wrongly assumed Dadaist meant a random mix of messy words. Well, Matthew Haigh, you have proved me wrong!

Death Magazine is a wonderful witty and clever collection of work providing astute observations on our modern world. There is a great mix of writing to suit moods. I particularly loved the Fitness section and the statements on the male body. As a huge Marlon Brando fan, I felt Matthew summed up a complex character so beautifully in few words. A real talent.

This collection has something to suit everyone. Short snappy pieces interspersed with longer stream of consciousness work.

Matthew Haigh is definitely one to watch.

[Benjamin Niespodziany · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love the source text used for this, and I love the idea of calling a book a magazine, and I love the prose poems throughout. This one is full of cut-up collages and body builders and surreal drip and shine. It was a delight to explore.

[Brad Cohen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this collection. The concept is executed beautifully, poems heartfelt, images strange and word choices unique. A must-read for contemporary poetry, and contemporary queer poetry.

[Anna Sinn · Rating 5 out of 5]

Incredible. Digs deep into the heart of society and celebrities. Packs a punch!

[Joshua Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading Death Magazine is like stepping into a much more interesting dystopia than our current one. Death Magazine is chock full of pop culture references and experimentation of poetic form, such as every poem under the 'Fitness' section naming a male Hollywood star. Its exploration of themes from homosexuality, masculinity and mental health are hard-hitting, but full of wit and dark humpur It's entertaining, it's weird, it's pink and it's brilliant -- one of the best poetry books to come out of Wales.

[Phyllida · Rating 4 out of 5]

Matthew Haigh’s poetry collection Death Magazine peels back the glossy exterior of ‘wellness’ culture to reveal the skull beneath the skin. Using Dadaist cut-up techniques, he has created an otherworldly mirror version of the lifestyle magazine that feels disturbingly familiar.

The collection is laid out like a magazine, with sections addressing different aspects of the human condition: fitness, lifestyle, beauty, wellness and advice. The ‘Fitness’ section comprises absurdist versions of male celebrities’ workout routines, their Patrick Bateman-esque weirdness satirising the unrealistic standards of masculine beauty offered by men’s magazines. In the ‘Wellness’ section, poems like ‘What Will Your Sims Do Now?’ explore the deep strangeness of the way we experience death in the contemporary era, now that we will all be outlived by our data footprint.

Haigh’s use of cut-up reaches heights of comic absurdity in ‘Interview with a New Father’, juxtaposing the bland soundbites attached to the idea of ideal fatherhood with the rawness of human vulnerability.

Death Magazine pushes back against the lie peddled by the lifestyle industry that with the right diet, fitness regime and skincare routine, death can somehow be evaded. These blackly humorous poems give an incisive yet touching look at what it means to be human in a post-human age.

A copy of the book was given to me by the author in return for an honest review. Buy a copy from Salt Publishing here.

[Will Palmer · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great exploration of masculinity, vanity and technology. I loved 'What Will Your Sims Do Now?' in which the writer discovers characters from a previously abandoned game of The Sims and watches over them like a god. He also has an entire chapter dedicated to celebrity workout routines which is brilliantly funny and weird.