In the realm of poetry, where words paint vivid pictures and evoke profound emotions, Matthew Rice's 'plastic' emerges as a captivating collection. This book-length poem cycle takes readers on a journey through the lives of factory workers, capturing their struggles, hopes, and the subtle beauty found in their daily routines. Rice's masterful use of time-stamped titles creates a unique bond between the reader and the narrator, as they share the experience of a 12-hour night shift, marked by the relentless ticking of the clock.
The first poem, '01.29', begins with a striking image of workers gazing at the stars during their break. However, their celestial observations are grounded in the mundane, as they see only the tobacco-like sparks of 'Bobby’s Golden Virginia' in the Milky Way. The poem highlights the limitations of their factory routine, where imaginative speculation is forbidden. The speaker, aware of this constraint, acknowledges the power of possibility while keeping it in check. The phrase 'insanity of depth' captures the dizziness of a free-spirited mental navigation of the cosmos, and the workers become conspirators against visions, star-gazers from the depth of despairing realism.
In the second poem, '05.29', the focus shifts to 'wee Gail', a worker who has just celebrated her 70th birthday. The present-continuous tense suggests that her special seat, a symbol of recognition, is a habitual space she occupies for ergonomic reasons. The poet-speaker, through monosyllabic lines, emphasizes the one-dimensionality of Gail's service, but the resumed triplets reveal her skill and efficiency in sifting defective ring washers. The romantic and celebratory turn at the end, with the vision of Gail as a concert pianist, adds a layer of admiration and affirmation, lifting the heavy shadow of 'another life'.
Rice's endnote pays tribute to Jacques Rancière's 'Proletarian Nights', a book that explores the workers' desire for freedom from their labor. As a poet and son of a poet, Rice is haunted by the concept of repressed creative potential in others. The poem about 'wee Gail' is a direct and moving expression of this vision, capturing the mental and physical costs of the labor treadmill. In an age of AI and declining human labor, the fulfillment of Rancière's ideal becomes a pressing question, leaving us with tough questions about the inscription and allocation of freedom by our institutions. 'plastic' both honors and transcends its factory setting, reminding us of the potential for growth in the digital era.
