“Moon Jellyfish Can Barely Swim” looks at what it might take to survive in what may seem like a hostile world. It’s not just about nature but also human survival, survival of a minority language (Welsh) in the UK, the measures women take to survive and why watching and waiting is not the answer. Jellyfish have already survived 500 million years and may be inadvertently getting human help to continue because they are making come-backs in areas of overfishing and pollution. Moon jellyfish are carried by currents rather than swimming so literally have to go with the flow. In the title poem,
“Imagine the weight of
that secret when you live
amongst the swimmers
shrinking to survive,
the flow pushing you
further, the gulls mock
moon confides with
sun, and you meeting
the ceaseless ebb and
flow of want.”
The jellyfish keep their weakness, the inability to swim, hidden, concealing themselves to not draw attention, especially from predators. They seem unmoved by the mocking from the gulls, perhaps experience has taught them that a lack of response is the best response, the gulls will get bored and move on. It’s patience and the ability to accept a changing environment that will keep the jellyfish alive.
Later, “I’m not what happened to me”, starts “Who said a story isn’t a story until you can look backwards”, which suggests the best way of understanding what happened is from a distance, away from environment where trauma occured.
“Healing starts near the edges and grows to fill the void.
The future is the moss-cracked path, the ivy-choked wall,
five riotous sparrows dust bathing on the road.
An alabaster sky promising nothing to a watery sun.”
Recovery takes time. You find a path and learn to keep with it even if progress is slow or takes detours. The past may try to drag you back or cling on, but the path also brings moments of joy which make it all worthwhile. It’s when you can talk about your past as if it is a tale that happened to someone else, you know you’re close to arriving.
“Notes on a Vowel Hungry Language”, written after Natalie Scenters-Zapico, is a dialogue about Welsh. It starts,
“What is language more
……………………… ………………………………………..An ugly pointless language.
than a window to a world,
…………………………………………………………………It’s foreign to me
a lullaby to ear, a scissors to
………………………………………………………………..native gibberish.
cut, vibration stuck in throat?”
One speaker is asking about the nature of language while the other is dismissive and regards a language they don’t speak as irrelevant. The cutting of scissors is not negative, cuts transform a material into shape and introduce creativity. The poem ends,
“That words grow into worlds if
……………………………………………………….…..A language no one else really
only you’d let them. Tonight,
…………………………………………………….……..needs or wants.
I’ll sit watching the setting of a
………………………………………………………..….I love the Welsh language, but all those
stubborn sun, raise a glass and
…………………………………………..………..…….consonants together can be so intimidating.
switch from one language to another.”
As the Welsh-speaker relaxes into her own language, the dismissive person finally gets to the point that much as they love listening to Welsh, they don’t understand it and feel frustrated by it. It’s unknown how much effort they’ve been putting in or whether they feel because they’re fluent in English, Welsh should be more accessible to them. Either way the non-Welsh speaker remains dismissive of something outside of their own experience, choked by their inability to understand why the Welsh would want to keep their language as a living, working tool and not just a display for the tourists.
“Five Minutes to Spare?” reminds me of the meme which shows a whiteboard. On one side, practically blank, is a list of things male students do to keep themselves safe on a night out. The other side is crammed full of things female students do to keep themselves safe on a night out. The poem suggests in five minutes you finish a few tasks or connect with someone, then,
“Keep alert
keep to the well-lit
keep your house keys
in your hand.
( five-minutes-from-home)
Walk with purpose
head up, eyes front
wear something
suitable on your feet.
Remember you are only
five minutes from home.”
Women, don’t let your guard drop, even close to home, which may turn out to be the most dangerous place of all.
“Waiting for Swallows” brings readers back to nature. The migratory birds are late and watched for with anxiety until,
“We wake one morning
to see eight on a wire.
Still giddy with relief
we’re too late to notice
they aren’t arriving
they’re gathering and
they don’t stay.”
The swallows are moving on, perhaps on a long journey to adaption to climate change. The humans, in ignorance, are failing to notice the signs.
“Moon Jellyfish Can Barely Swim” is about survival through understanding ecology and the natural world as well as understanding our limitations and enabling our ability to connect with and build relationships with others. The speaker who refuses to learn Welsh fails to appreciate what they are missing out on. The observers whose relief at seeing the swallows hinders their ability to read the message the birds are trying to pass on. The half-life of fear of taking every precaution you can and yet still not feeling safe. Ultimately the poems follow the ebb and flow of words and their rhythms, elegant as a jellyfish’s underwater dance.
“Moon Jellyfish Can Barely Swim” is available from Parthian Books.
Emma Lee’s The Significance of a Dress is available from Arachne Press. The link also has a trailer featuring the title poems and samples of some of the poems from the collection. It is also available as an eBook.
Emma Lee's Blog 
April 12, 2023 at 5:54 pm
Sounds brilliant! I’ve put it on my list – this mix of environmental/language/culture themes is very much my kind of thing. Thanks for sharing.