The New Libertines at Three Minute Theatre

Poet, publisher and performer Dan Holloway bought his literary travelling circus to Manchester last night, under the ‘New Libertines’ banner. There’s a developing spoken word scene centred on the Northern Quarter at present, with nights such as ‘Bad Language’ and ‘Tales of Whatever’ flourishing, and the event managed to match up some of the more popular local performers with a variety of others from around the country.

The Three Minute Theatre was an excellent choice of venue for the event, with the room’s ramshackle charm and mismatched seating suitably reflecting the ethos of the event itself. Silent films were projected onto the back wall as the crowd milled around the bar. Resplendent in red braces and a fishnet stockinged arm, Dan introduced the evening’s performers before launching into one of his own poems, Monsters Walk These Streets. His Ginsberg facial hair and Beat delivery make Mr Holloway an engaging performer, as does his willingness to tackle potentially embarrassing themes in a direct manner. He brings huge doses of boyish enthusiasm to his introductions, and it was great to see a compere laughing and applauding heartily during each act.

The first act of the evening was Laura Jarratt, a YA fiction writer (‘without vampires’), reading the first section from her new novel, Skin Deep. The opening chapter, told from the viewpoint of a teenaged girl, featured a near-fatal car-crash, whilst the second was more reflective, with a refrain of ‘ugly people don’t have feelings – at least that’s what I thought’.

Following on from Ms Jarrett was Rachel Genn, a reading from her novel The Cure. The section she chose described a disastrous swimming date, with the male narrator spending an awful amount of time fiddling with the content of his trunks; the humour of the story was heightened by the downbeat northern tone of the reader.

Next up was Claire Robertson, a writer/performer from Huddersfield, who seemed to be a big favourite with the For Books’ Sake contingent in the audience. She was the first performer to go beyond the traditional set-up of these events, making the most of the stage. Her piece, written specially for the event, was inspired by the Chinese Year of the Dragon, and her pregnancy. Reading from a scroll she had created herself, and using her own body as a prop, she spun an ethereal tale of a young woman searching for a distinct identity and exploring the world her ‘little dragon’ will be entering. The piece was almost stream of consciousness at times, and Claire’s sly eyes darted round the room, engaging with the crowd.

After Ms Robertson’s performance, Dan introduced the first writer he’d invited from Oxford, Paul Askew. His short, darkly surreal poems dealt mainly with death and birds (‘pigeons are the alcoholics of the bird world’), and his presentation was reminiscent of Lee and Herring in their early, ranty days.

After a short break and a rush to the bar, the event restarted with Elizabeth Baines, reading from her book Balancing on the Edge of the World. Fittingly, the piece (‘Condensed Metaphysics’) was based down the road from the venue, and detailed a drunken discussion in a takeaway over aspiration, being and disillusionment.

The second poet of the night came next, 2011 ‘Not The Booker Prize’ winner Michael Stewart, reading poems he had written for an exhibition called Couples. These short, humorous poems drew wry grins from the audience, and trod a fine line between subtlety and smut. This line was then gleefully trampled by Sarah-Clare Conlan. Her first and last poems were each 69 words long (‘an arbitrary number’), and the set ended on the word ‘pussy’. In between, she told stories of masturbating librarians and fireman fantasies, with a knowing understatement.

The last of the featured readers, Sian Rathore took the stage next; her first poems included some memorable lines (‘she had the anagram of a good face’), but her third, and longest, got the biggest reaction of the night. A description of hypermanic episodes, ‘I’m So Jacked’ was the poetic equivalent of the Chuck Norris internet memes (‘I’m so jacked I’m listening to Marilyn Manson and I don’t care… I’m so jacked Marilyn Manson is listening to me!’) and fit well with the increasingly merry audience.

Finally, an open mic section featured a debut reading from For Books’ Sake’s Alex Herod (a short piece inspired by Nabokov and the plastic rock planted by secret services in Moscow) and Bad Language’s Dan Carpenter, as well as a didgeridoo version of ‘Inspector Gadget’ and contributions from Fat Roland and David Hartley.

The event was a great success overall; the performers had disparate styles but maintained a high level of quality, and the audience seemed swept up in the enthusiasm coming from the stage. Late drinks were had, plans were hatched and things were lost. While ‘The New Libertines’ sounds like a Granta style tag for a new movement, there was too much variety on show for the acts to be pigeonholed – it does appear to be a guarantee of a good night out though.