Tag Archives: Derek Walcott

On not blogging about poetry

Your blog covers everything – except poetry, my sister told me when I was reviewing bookword earlier this year. I find it hard to believe but this is my 50th post and this is my half-century response to her implied challenge.

The death of Seamus Heaney last week was an occasion for considerable public acclaim of his work, and a reminder that the Nobel Prize for Literature was awarded to him in 1995. Paul Muldoon, fellow Irish poet, gave a moving tribute on In Tune on BBC Radio3. Heaney had a gift, he said, to connect the reader with the writer, and to give back the world of things and the things of the world, seeing them as if for the first time. He allowed in people who were not ordinarily interested in poetry.

50 anthol

I love reading poetry. I am very fond of anthologies. As a (former) Londoner I always enjoyed the serendipity of Poems on the Underground. I often dip into the two volumes of Poem for the Day. Again the randomness of the day’s poem is part of its delight. To read The Nation’s Favourite Poems (of which Rudyard Kipling’s If was the ‘clear and unassailable winner’ in the poll conducted in 1995) is to revisit poetry lessons at school. I have good memories of mutual pleasure in poems with my American penfriend, chosen from Palgrave’s Treasury. My sister also likes anthologies (suggested them for her Desert Island Books) and sent this photo.

50 H's poetry

And I have had great pleasure, too, in reading what poets write about poetry. These books have made good travelling companions. Roger Housden’s 10 poems to change your life introduced me to two poems I often reread: Mary Oliver’s The Journey and Derek Walcott’s Love after Love. I got a great deal out of Ruth Padel’s two books: 52 ways of looking at a poem and The Poem and the Journey and sixty poems to read along the way. In fact I think I will dip into both of them again.

50 on poetry

Recently I have read Glyn Maxwell On Poetry. In his review Adam Newey in the Guardian said it was the best book about poetry he’s ever read. I enjoyed the humour, the creativity and the technical details with which it explores form, rhyme patterns, line breaks and so on. It’s all a far cry from the kind of solemn incantation that school poetry encouraged.

The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle’s wreck
Shone round him o’er the dead.
(From Casablanca by Felicia Dorothea Hemans, 1826)

According to Glyn Maxwell poetry, although a human activity, has been ‘unnecessary for almost all of creation’ (p10). Just pause a moment and notice the work of that word ‘almost’. When was the time that poetry was necessary? Is it now? Let’s hope it’s now, in our time. Maxwell takes the reader through some of his reflections on poetry, on poems, on the writing and reading of poems, a meander that is sometimes playful, sometimes teasing, passionate, fervent and unsettling.

He approaches poetry as both sensual and intellectual, an intellectual journey to enhance the senses, a sensual journey to be spiced with intellectual appreciation. The TLS reviewer seemed to think it fell short of being a decent course on writing poetry, but I did not read it as a how to write book. And that’s partly because I don’t write poetry.

I don’t write poetry. I try not to say I can’t write poetry, but I don’t seem to make any progress when I try to learn to write the stuff. I am still dissuaded by the criticism I received when I was 17, from a published poet. He didn’t agree that my poems were prize winners, and suggested I had written ‘chopped up prose’. After nearly half a century I am still bruised.

50 poets

I can’t memorise poems. But I have lots that mean something to me: Philip Larkin The Years; Mary Oliver, Wild Geese; Yeats, The Dancer and the Dance; Alice Oswald Dart … I revisit these with pleasure and anticipate many yet unknown.

I suspect that stillness is needed to enjoy poems. I don’t have much in my life. Don’t expect many blogs on poetry but I can’t help asking myself: would I be a better reader of poetry if I wrote more? Would I be a better writer of poetry if I read more?

What would you say to persuade me to try writing poetry? Would you take the trouble? What poetry do you like?

 

If you want to be notified of further posts please subscribe by entering your email address in the box at the head of the column on the right.

Leave a Comment

Filed under Uncategorized