Review
Books
Culture
Joy
Poetry
5 min read

Theresa Lola's poetical hope

The death-haunted yet lyrical, joyful and moving poet for a new generation.

Jonathan is Team Rector for Wickford and Runwell. He is co-author of The Secret Chord, and writes on the arts.

A poet stands and speaks, raising an arm.
Theresa Lola performs at Kings Place.
Cosmic Shambles Network.

There are poems such as T.S. Eliot's ‘Journey of the Magi’ and U.A. Fanthorpe's ‘BC – AD’ which have become staples of Christmas Carol services. Last Christmas, for the first time, I used Theresa Lola's ‘Look at the Revival’ as the poem in our Carol Service that explored the experience of the Magi in seeking and finding Jesus.   

‘Look at the Revival’ was commissioned by National Gallery in 2020 in response to ‘The Adoration of Kings’ painting by Jan Gossaert. The poem is written in the voice of Balthazar, the Black King in the painting, and explores the painting’s themes of rupture, transformation and renewal. It ends with this reflection: 

My job often feels like a hefty stone 

But today I am powered by a fierce awe. 

  

I say to the stunned people let us look deeply 

to know this hope deeply. 

British Nigerian poet and former Young People’s Laureate for London, Lola is the British equivalent of Amanda Gorman, whose poem ‘The Hill We Climb’ made such an impact at US President Joe Biden's inauguration. Lola said after that event that “To have poetry make national headlines … was just so exciting” and to have Gorman’s poem articulate everyone’s feelings “was just the perfect example of what poetry can do”. 

There is a real art to writing poetry for public occasions where depth and immediacy need to intertwine. It is an art that Lola herself has mastered, as was demonstrated when she was commissioned by the Mayor of London’s Office to write and read a poem - ‘For Those Who Listen When Courage Calls’ - at the unveiling of Millicent Fawcett’s statue in Parliament Square. 

Lola was joint-winner in 2018 of the Brunel International African Poetry Prize and was featured in the 2019 ‘Forces for Change’ issue of British Vogue as a next generation talent. Other commissions for her work, which explores themes of self-discovery, transformation, cultural heritage, and belonging, have included Selfridges, Rimowa, Royal Festival Hall, and Audible. She is currently leading the Volunteer Interpreter Programme at Dulwich Picture Gallery where, in a programme inspired by their Soulscapes exhibition, she is exploring how poetry can be used to interpret their collection.  

“This poet speaks boldly of prayer as a call to arms for family, for love, for a survival, which as she concludes in the final poem, ‘Psalm 151’, ‘I prayed my fists into’”

S. Niroshini

Her debut poetry collection ‘In Search of Equilibrium’, which was hailed as “powerful and rigorous”, is an extraordinary, and exacting study of death and grieving. The reviews of this collection have much to say about the well springs of her work.  

In this collection, as S. Niroshini writes, she “deftly deploys form, texture, and shape to interrogate the meaning of death and the suffering of family” with poems “variously presented as computer coding, live reportage, prayers, algorithms, Wikipedia entries and hip-hop lyrics”. While its subject matter is, as Carmina Masoliver notes, “essentially natural – life and death”, the poems themselves are often experimental and “bring in cultural elements … as well as religious allusions”. Charlie Hill explains that “This superb debut collection revolves around the death of the poet’s grandfather, whose Alzheimer’s resulted in a ‘four-year funeral’”. Laurie Smith suggests “It is rare for a debut collection by a young poet to be so death-haunted, but it is death-haunted in the same sense as [Sylvia] Plath’s ‘Ariel’ and [Anne] Sexton’s ‘To Bedlam and Part Way Back’.” He writes that “The comparison isn’t fanciful” as “Lola’s writing has a similar vividness and strength”. 

Masoliver notes that “The collection is book-ended with Lola’s own prayer and psalm”. “From the first,” she suggests, “there is an expression of doubt about the poet’s faith, though holding onto it ‘even when I fear God might be a thin shadow’”. Yet, “By the time we get to the final poem, there is a loss of innocence to the reality of the world around us, but a certain strength that comes with ‘fighting darkness’”. Niroshini states that “This poet speaks boldly of prayer as a call to arms for family, for love, for a survival, which as she concludes in the final poem, ‘Psalm 151’, ‘I prayed my fists into’”. 

Lola has said that “The writing of the collection was emotionally challenging as the poems touch on sensitive topics about death, faith, family and mental health.” For her, “writing poetry has been a ‘therapeutic tool’, a ‘healthy listening ear’ and a way to express her struggles, be they anxiety or … grief”. Nevertheless, she also says: “My poems always suggest and show hope no matter how gritty the subject is! I do write poems that are centred around my faith, and that hope in my faith is Jesus”. 

Many reviewers note Lola’s ability to write lines, such as ‘sweeping me off my bones’, “that stop you dead”. Hannah Williams was particularly moved by lines from ‘Blessed Are the Mothers of a Dead Child’: 

Blessed are the mothers of a dead child 

for they manage to recover 

after eating the fruit that grows 

from planting your child’s casket in the ground. 

Hill cites the final lines of the same poem: 

My grandmother tries to celebrate the brief beauty of his breath. 

She says what use is sweeping grief under the carpet 

when you can blend it to find the drop of sanity that will flow from it. 

to suggest that it is here that the equilibrium sought in the collection’s title is to be found. 

The Sunday Times Style Magazine has described Lola as being among “the ranks of an exciting new wave of young female bards who are widening the appeal of poetry for a new generation”. As a result, the imminent prospect of a second collection from her is a particularly exciting prospect. Look out later in the year, then, for ‘Ceremony for the Nameless’ which is described as exploring the act of naming and its role in shaping our identities, our aspirations, what we carry and how we belong. In lyrical, joyful and moving poems, Lola will explore the ways our journey through life might require us to cast off old expectations – both others’ and our own – just as at other times it can bring us back, strangely and unexpectedly, to where we first began.  

This returns us to Balthazar and his journey of discovery. So, as he states: “let us look deeply / to know this hope deeply.”  

Article
Change
Identity
Joy
5 min read

Embrace those grey areas: they might burst into colour

Resist notions of black-and-white existence.

Lauren writes on faith, community, and anything else that compels her to open the Notes app. 

A pile of folded knitted jumpers sit on a grey back ground, one is also grey, the others are red and brown.
Anna Evans on Unsplash.

All too often, the world demands us to be one thing, or to be another. In our responses, our ideologies, our beliefs, we are expected to be this, or to be that. In or out. Yes or no. Red or blue. Black or white. The world likes when we label ourselves with a certainty that makes us easier to market to, to capture in a strategic plan, or to reach in an algorithm. 

On a social level, these self-categorising definitions – what I believe, who I vote for, what I consume – can become a filtering system for who gets access to us, and who does not. In a combination of association and assumption, we decide who ‘our people’ are, and who they are not. And it seems straightforward. 

That is until you realise two things: most of life occurs not in the confines of black or white certainty, but in the grey, in-between area. And none of us are straightforward. 

After living through what was dubbed ‘the largest election year in history’ in a multi-national community, I can appreciate that a person is unlikely to experience uncomplicated commiseration or celebration. In the days following several of these major elections, I witnessed friends express disappointment, relief, uncertainty and acceptance in an exceptionally short span. 

We may like to believe that we are clear-cut individuals who hold easily defined, nicely organised ideas and beliefs, but the reality is far messier. Our attitudes, views and feelings are lightly tethered to a spectrum and, almost always, we find ourselves somewhere in the middle. 

Think about it. Can you remember the last time you felt sustained unadulterated happiness, without concern for something or someone lingering at the back of your mind? The reverse is true, too. I’ve known people in the trenches of grief to laugh out loud at their favourite Instagram reels. Typically, it doesn’t take much to drag us away from the highs and the lows of life. We are geared to live in the in-between spaces. 

Make space for all that occurs within the confines of what the world expects and accepts. To embrace the mess of the in-between. 

This pull we feel to the middle is not surprising. One of the early church leaders, Paul, said that ‘if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come.’ We are new creation beings, surrounded by new creation ideas, in an old creation world. Our social constructs, systems and very lives are built on the premise of being somewhere in between the old and the new, a grey area of partly present and partly future. 

Paula Gooder, the New Testament theologian, says of Paul’s writing: ‘With Jesus’s death and resurrection, the new creation lies with the old creation. From time to time, you will see moments of perfection, moments of resurrection, and those are the moments that keep us going in the difficult time … Although you’ve got new creation lying on top, you’ve still got old creation lying underneath. If you want to ask the question of why the world is as awful as it is, it’s because we’re living in old creation.’ 

In embracing the Kingdom of God in being both now and not yet, we are engaging in an act of resistance against notions of black-and-white existence by living in a grey area that is fit to burst into bright, celestial colour. 

On the surface, the story that shapes our origins of existence, the creation narrative of Genesis suggests a God who works in binaries – night and day, land and sea. But we know that there is also the less easily defined twilight, dusk and dawn, marsh and mist. Creation itself indicates that living solely in duality is an impossible feat. After all, we weren’t made for separation, but for unity and reconciliation. All around us, the natural world witnesses to a God who created the things in-between and, like the setting and rising of the sun, he made them to be spectacular and captivating. 

In his criticism of Richard Dawkins and the new atheist movement, Terry Eagleton echoes the excitement that dwells in the in-between, writing that Dawkins ‘would seem to divide neatly down the middle between things you can prove beyond all doubt, and blind faith. He fails to see that all the most interesting stuff goes on in neither of these places.’ 

While certainty has its moment and its merits, I don’t think living in a grey area is a bad thing. In fact, I think we’d all be better off if we could get used to it. If, in compassion, we could assume that our neighbour, too, is occupying space in the grey area, floating somewhere between joy and sorrow, clarity and confusion, relief and pain. If, in humility, we could accept that we don’t always have the answers and grow comfortable with saying ‘I don’t know.’ If, in fairness to ourselves and to others, we could allow for the myriad of feelings between delight and distraught. 

In a world that not only expects polarisation but increasingly feeds it for profit of votes or views, this is a counter-cultural way of living. It is radical to acknowledge that our feelings, opinions and even our beliefs can rarely be defined as immovable. We are evolving beings and, as such, the stuff we hold in our minds and hearts today will morph and grow and potentially come to change tomorrow. 

Our lives are more than a sum of wins and losses, comedy and tragedy, old and new, black and white. So, as we stand at the beginning of this year, I implore you to make space for all that occurs within the confines of what the world expects and accepts. To embrace the mess of the in-between. To press on in the grey areas of life, only to discover it full, vibrant and glorious in new creation colour. 

 

Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief