The Wretch on the Gallows Tree: Rhymes and Carols

Daniel Mitsui
2024; 120 pp.; $16 (paperback)

The Wretch on the Gallows Tree: A Review of Daniel Mitsui’s Poetry Collection

Imagine: the camera pans over a gleaming stage while three judges on a dais loom above a lone contestant, ready to give it all before an international audience of millions. With fame on the line, not to mention a top prize of over one million dollars, the contestant raises her voice and begins... to recite poetry.

If this thought experiment seems almost too preposterous—some might say cruel—it highlights the obvious fact that, in our day, poetry has become the niche interest of an intellectual subculture. This is an anomaly in many modern Western societies. Poetry, whether oral or written, has been a universal of human culture since prehistoric times. The above scenario is not even a thought experiment; it's a description of two popular television shows aired throughout the Middle East, currently on their tenth and eleventh seasons.

This state of affairs is not normal. As Dana Gioia suggests in his 2015 essay Poetry as Enchantment, we may be approaching a point where "the majority of adult readers [of American poetry] are academic professionals or graduate students training for those professions." Yet, poetry need not remain the preserve of academics to impress each other. In recent weeks, I have had the joy of reading Daniel Mitsui’s debut poetry collection, The Wretch on the Gallows Tree, to my family as part of our morning prayer.

Many readers of this journal will already be familiar with Mitsui’s remarkable work as an illustrator, featured in several past issues. Mitsui is also an accomplished writer, having won our 2016 Jacques Maritain Prize for Nonfiction with his essay Why You’re Wrong About Medieval Art, a learned defense of Gothic forms. So, when Mitsui began posting verse on his social media accounts last Advent, I was both intrigued and delighted. His art is striking, not just for its attention to detail—some of his earlier work almost demands a microscope—but for its ability to feel both bracingly fresh and thoroughly traditional.

It would be more accurate to say that his work feels fresh because it is so deeply traditional. Mitsui is not merely imitating Medieval models; he has rooted himself in them. Like a scientist innovating by mastering the work of his predecessors, Mitsui extends the Western iconographic tradition of the Middle Ages into the present day. His sacred scenes reveal a deep knowledge of Medieval art—its forms, techniques, and aims—and are also infused with biblical, theological, and hagiographical sources. This foundation allows him to incorporate diverse influences, from Celtic knotwork and Japanese Ukiyo-e prints to Islamic calligraphy and Native American art.

The Poetry Collection: The Wretch on the Gallows Tree

The poems in The Wretch on the Gallows Tree reflect the same combination of accessibility and depth found in Mitsui’s visual art. Described as “rhymes and carols” in the subtitle, the poems are immediately approachable and enjoyable for both adults and children. Yet, as with his artwork, Mitsui’s poems are rich with biblical and theological insight. Many of the poems explore typology, illuminating events and characters that “rhyme” across salvation history. Mitsui integrates secular history and pagan mythology in ways that ultimately point toward Christ.

The collection follows the liturgical year from Advent to the Ascension, with the majority of the poems focusing on Advent/Christmas and Holy Week/Easter.

Musicality and Metrical Play

Musicality is the dominant thread running through the collection. Many poems are described as songs, ballads, hymns, and carols. Mitsui’s excellent ear for rhythm shines through in his use of varied metrical forms. For example, several poems are written in iambic tetrameter, a rhythm often used in songs and Medieval poetry. Others, like When God Made Adam: A Hymn for Christmas at Midnight, employ more obscure forms, such as the "Blunden"—a metrical pattern composed of sestets that combine iambic tetrameter and trimeter with an ABCCAB rhyme scheme. This gives each stanza a dramatic wave-like quality:

When God made Adam from the earth,
He gave him airy breath.
A heart like fire burned in the man.
His humors like four rivers ran.
All elements were in his birth;
He was no slave to death.

Rich Allusions and Glossary

Mitsui’s poems are full of allusions, including Latin phrases that may be unfamiliar to many readers. To help with this, Mitsui includes a “Glossary of Unusual Words and Phrases” at the end of the book. Some of these entries are fascinating in their own right, such as:

• Adder’s Tongue: Fossil shark teeth, mistaken for the tongues of snakes, were once believed to detect poison. These amulets were presented at banquets, hung on a little tree made from polished red coral.

Among my favorite entries is No Greater Love: A Romance on the Death of Jesus Christ, a narrative poem in iambic tetrameter and the longest in the collection. It tells the story of Eleazar Avaran, who sacrifices himself during the Maccabean revolt by singlehandedly bringing down a Greek war elephant and scattering five hundred horsemen. Mitsui’s historical and epic treatment of these events highlights the heroic nature of the sacrifice, setting the stage for a Christological parallel.

Thematic Depth and Conclusion

In a similar fashion, the second section tells the story of Codrus, traditionally the last king of Athens, who sacrifices himself to save his people. The parallel to Christ becomes clear, but it’s the epic nature of their stories that serves as a powerful prelude to the third section, which focuses on the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus. Mitsui’s treatment of Christ’s crucifixion as both an act of profound love and a bold, heroic deed resonates deeply.

The poem ends with a coda that beautifully brings together the threads of biblical and pagan narratives, ultimately making the crucifixion the ultimate act of sacrifice that gathers all peoples into the inheritance of Abraham. The collection concludes with one of the only references I’ve encountered of the word hylomorphous in poetry.

A Book to Reread

I cannot end without mentioning that the book is decorated with black-and-white illustrations by Mitsui himself. The book is also typeset using four typefaces he designed.

Overall, The Wretch on the Gallows Tree is a collection of poems that is easy to love, and one that will bear repeated rereading. Whether you're already a fan of poetry or you’d like to be, Mitsui’s rhythmic songs and the cadence of the liturgical year will draw you into contemplation of deeper, divine rhythms—those at the heart of God’s own poetry.