By Zara Noor
Illustrated by Sylvain Chan
It appears that student life in London is inevitably shaped by a love-hate relationship with the Tube: seemingly random charges from TFL, post-club eye contact with bankers on their way to work, and the pigeon somehow always inside Euston station. People from all walks of life are brought together, perhaps closer than they’d like at rush hour. It’s no wonder that every tourist and Londoner alike has a story to tell about the Tube.
Driven by the absurdity and diversity of the London Underground, Kestral Gaian’s new poetry collection, ‘Tubelines’, is both comedically sharp and deeply poignant. It launched in London on the 4th of October, and I had the opportunity to hear Kestral introduce their work. I was also able to chat with them about the queer poetry scene, their creative writing process, and most importantly, which Tube line is their favourite.
Growing up as a queer person on a council estate in the Midlands, Kestral’s writing is shaped by the desire for connection in a community that makes you feel different. As many LSE students do, Kestral moved to London for the first time as an adult and described the initial difficulty in making friends and feeling connected to the city. As a non-binary poet, Kestral writes work that is “unapologetically queer”. They hope through their storytelling and poetry, queer and marginalised people are able to “feel seen”, knowing that – as they put it – “poetry is for everyone”.
‘Tubelines’ is not only about the literal Underground, but also the experiences beneath the cold surface of London that eventually made it feel like home. In Kestral’s words, “the Tube is an amalgamation of people from all walks of life”, and also “a place where ‘people are [at] their weirdest’”, allowing moments of humanity, humour, and honesty. London, from an outside view, has a reputation as a daunting, glamourous city of gilet-wearing finance bros and designer handbags, but it is also true that one trip on the Tube can shatter this illusion. I, for one, have experienced the community spirit (and impromptu karaoke) on the Northern Line during Notting Hill Carnival.
Kestral’s writing is inspired by living experiences, and it is clear to see in their poetry. ‘Really Fucking Old Street’, an intensely funny rant about constant building work, is balanced perfectly with an observation that all of us are a work in progress, really. Their writing is able to transform the banal annoyance at construction into a powerful comment on human nature and change. It is in this incredible ability to find the connection and wonder in ordinary moments that makes this collection so powerfully honest and deft.
Their writing process consisted of carrying a notebook around London, noting down the tender moments, glances, tears, arguments, and falling-down-stairs incidents that happen every day. Rather than over-formalising what poetry can be, Kestral explains: “I play with genres and forms and write what I feel needs to come out. People should stop gatekeeping through stuffiness. Art is messy and it’s best when it’s messy!”
Often, creative writing and the arts can seem inaccessible, particularly in the career-driven, competitive environment LSE is notorious for. Kestral’s advice is this: “The absolute hardest thing to do is starting, especially when you’re coming from a results-driven place like LSE. The process is what matters in art, not so much the result, and you’re the only person to who the process should matter to. Writing sometimes is an act of self-care.”
Writing ‘Tubelines’, it seems to me, was an act of self-care for not only Kestral but every visitor and native feeling disillusioned with the city. Taken from the press release, this quote explains it all – “Tubelines is both a journey through a city and a journey through the self. It celebrates everyday magic, transforming ordinary Tube rides and city life into extraordinary uplifting poetry.”
It is a difficult time to be a minority in London, and it is worth remembering to look for the moments of joy in unexpected places.
What next for Kestral? They’re working on a novel where, as they assured me, all the protagonists are queer, and all the evil characters are straight. Personally, I can’t wait to read it, particularly if it is as insightful, heartwarming, and full of laughter as ‘Tubelines’ and Kestral themselves.
