While I’m on my hols I’m re-posting one or two articles from my ‘Social Media for Writers’ blog in case they are of interest.
I’ve promised myself to stay off the grid while we’re away, so please do still leave comments, which I love reading, although I won’t be able to reply immediately.
Here are my Tips for Choosing a WordPress.com Theme.
Things have gone a tad pear-shaped these last 2 weeks and I’ve managed to read only 3 books –but I have various excuses, ranging from (ahem!) work, getting ready for our holiday (imminent), selling our house (exchange of contracts WE HOPE imminent), flat-hunting for new flat to replace the one we had to pull out of, a weekend of singing at Westminster Abbey (magical) and arrival of first grandchild (born this morning).
The Bees – Carol Ann Duffy (Picador 2012)
I heard Carol Ann read from this collection when it was shortlisted for the T S Eliot prize. For me she’s a perfect Poet Laureate in that she manages to write poetry that has wide appeal – yet it’s not ‘popular’ in the sense of relentlessly lightweight, and not ‘accessible’ in the sense of there being no work for the reader to do. If there was one overall impression I had after reading this book it was the pleasure Carol Ann takes in the sounds of language – she’s bold with her use of assonance, alliteration and internal rhyme, the most obvious example probably being ‘Cockermouth and Workington’ – ‘No folk fled the flood, / no flags furled or spirits failed –/one brave soul felled.’ Seeded through the book are a number of poems about the poet’s mother, all very moving. Favourite poem: ‘Cold’.
Philip Larkin – High Windows (Faber, 1974)
This is where I show my ignorance (or innocence?) because I admit to being a Larkin virgin (unless you count having read the odd notorious excerpt). I spotted this slim volume, romped through the book and thoroughly enjoyed it, even the curmudgeonly stuff, and laughed in what were probably the wrong places. Here is a style that seems to sit somewhere between John Betjeman in his less twee moments and contemporary poets like Sam Riviere: idiomatic, conversational, multi-layered wit. Reading this collection feels a little like overhearing an unguarded conversation in the pub. ‘And however you bank your screw, the money you save / Won’t in the end by you more than a shave.’ (‘Money’). Favourite poem: ‘Vers de société’.
Sarah Howe – Loop of Jade (Chatto, 2015)
I bought this book on the basis of one short poem in the Guardian and I’m pleased I did. You know that feeling when you’re reading stuff by someone you’ve not encountered before, and you just know this is the Real Thing. I see Loop of Jade is on the Forward Prize shortlist and I’ve absolutely no doubt Sarah Howe will be all over the big poetry prizes in the future, on GCSE syllabi and more. It’s a big, lush book which had me intrigued from the off. I wasn’t convinced by the back cover blurb and the promise of ‘an exploration of self and place, of migration and inheritance’, which sounded a bit familiar. But to be fair it’s hard to describe the density of the language and the pull of so many intricate images, of contemporary China, memories of the poet, her mother and grandmother (‘half-finished bowls / of rice, the ivory Mah Jong tablets / clacking, like joints, swift and mechanical’ – ‘Crossing from Guangdong’), ancient stories and fantastic characters. There are prose poems, snippets of chinese, a meditation on a life model, a hot night in Arizona, a beautiful ekphrastic poem which should be used as reference in all workshops on the subject.
At the start of the book is a quote from Borges referring to ‘a certain Chinese encyclopedia entitled The Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Knowledge‘ which classifies animals into groups such as ‘sirens’, ‘frenzied’ and ‘drawn with a very fine camelhair brush’. These then form the basis for many of the poems in the collection. Super, super stuff. Favourite poem at the moment (but hard to choose): ‘Woman in the garden’.
This post is the latest update to my ‘Reading List’ project begun in July 2015.
Yesterday evening I was at the Poetry Cafe for a Poetry Society/Society of Authors event called ‘Making Poetry Work’, billed as a discussion about the ‘business’ of poetry. Being a member of both organisations I felt drawn to it – plus of course I have an interest in the business of poetry in the shape of Telltale Press.
The blurb did say it was aimed at ’emerging’ writers and although I didn’t take that as meaning ‘young’ I think that probably was the intention. As it was, I was probably representative of the average age of the audience. There was a panel: Kayo Chingonyi, Kirsten Irving, Clare Pollard, Kate Potts and Emily Hasler of the Society of Authors.
The format was that Clare Pollard led the panel though a series of questions to do with getting published, how to make a living as a poet (or suitable day jobs to work in around it!) and typical poet career progressions. It was fun and lively, with a good size audience. Only late on did we get to business issues and although I was hoping for more discussion of the publishing business of poetry – readership, sales, distribution, margins and so forth – there wasn’t time and it probably wasn’t on the agenda anyway. It was interesting to hear the advice and opinions of the panellists, but at times I was itching for topics to be thrown open to the audience. I sensed there was quite a bit of knowledge and experience in the audience that would have enriched the conversation. But with a large agenda to cover the time was handled well.
After a chatty break we had brief readings from all the poet panellists and I really enjoyed that – it felt like a lovely antidote to all the ‘businessy’ stuff that gets me fired up (but not always in a good way). Powerful readings, especially from Kayo who I’ve not heard before.
It was great to encounter one or two familiar faces, including Hilaire – makes me realise I’m starting to make London poet friends and be part of something there. I was also very pleased to meet Kirsten Irving, whose magazine Fuselit was one of the first I sent off for when I was starting to write poetry, and I was transfixed by the amount of work and love that had gone into its production, including a little bag of sea creature fridge magnets that came with it. Kirsten said she didn’t often get face to face feedback and she seemed genuinely pleased. It reminded me how important it is to tell people when you’ve appreciated something they’ve done. And producing a poetry magazine has to be pretty thankless at the best of times. Thank a poetry editor today!
I see it’s been ages since I gave an update on submissions and what not. And it’s also been a while since I talked much on this blog about what I’m up to outside of my ‘read a poetry book a day’ challenge. So here goes.
I recently had a poem accepted for a magazine after 34 weeks. I’d kind of given up on that submission, so I’ve meanwhile sent the same poem out to another magazine, one that doesn’t say ‘no simultaneous submissions’. But then nor do they give any email contact details on their site, so in the unlikely event of them wanting that particular poem I will have to admit it’s gone. I’d rather let them know now but not sure how to – save writing a letter, and I think letters are likely to be read ‘in order’ rather like submissions.
Currently out:
1 poem for 77 days
3 poems for 53 days
4 poems for 46 days
5 poems for 31 days
plus 3 poems out to competitions.
I’ve not sent anything out to magazines in over a month, but then again I haven’t written anything new in that time either. But I do feel the reading project is benefiting me big time. I’m getting so many ideas about how I need to improve my own work. This is good. Because although I’m not writing I’m preparing to write better stuff. Or so it feels. We’ll see.
Having said what I’ve not been doing, I’ve still been working on some very interesting things. One of which was being a guest selector for South magazine, together with Jeremy Page of the Frogmore Papers. Jeremy is an experienced editor, poet and industry veteran – it takes a lot to impress or surprise him. So it was great fun (and a real learning experience) for me. South Magazine has an anonymous submissions process, which means both selectors read all the poems (separately) and make their selections. Then they get together to compare, negotiate, re-read and finally reach an agreement as to which poems should make the cut. At no time did we know the names of the poets. Although our initial selections weren’t identical, we actually didn’t disagree much at all when it came to discussing individual poems. Fascinating stuff. The launch of South 52 will be in Lewes (yay!) in October.
And another wonderful experience for me has been working with Sarah Barnsley on her debut pamphlet, The Fire Station, for Telltale Press. Sarah is a joy to work with and such a talent. We hope to send the pamphlet to print very soon and the publication date is set for September. More on this in due course.
The weather has been so good lately it’s tempting to go out for a walk (or a pub lunch!) rather than read. But I’m enjoying the discipline – I find last thing at night and first thing in the morning are good times to read. This week I read through five more collections.
Hangman’s Acre – Janet Sutherland (Shearsman 2009)
I love the way this collection is shaped, framed by poems of love, separation and reunion. In between there are tender explorations of ageing, loss and grief. But there’s much more than that: Janet’s poetry of the South Downs, spirituality as seen through nature, the death of animals and a powerful rage against female genital mutilation. And more – such as the short ‘Bone Monkey’ sequence, a precursor to the more recent collection of that name. Janet’s poems are spare and precise, a joy to read over. Favourite poem: ‘A Walk with Five Dewponds’.
Crow – Ted Hughes (Faber 1972)
At school, we read half a dozen Ted Hughes poems and I memorised ‘Hawk Roosting’ for my A level English. Reading Hughes got me interested in writing poetry and I’ve always regarded him with awe. And yet reading Crow made it so obvious that I’ve only scratched a very small bit of the surface when it comes to his work. This was actually a two-day job, even without re-reading as I went along (one of my ‘reading list’ rules). What to say about Crow? A masterclass in extended metaphor. I would say ‘a roller coaster ride’ if that weren’t such a stupid cliche – gruesome, comedic, horrifying, tender and raging, you could say it was all those things. Above all it challenged me, pushed me into things I didn’t like, made me want to put the book down, but just as strong was the urge to read on. I had a few nightmares. But it was worth it. Favourite poem: ‘Lovesong’.
Earthworks – Jacqueline Gabbitas (Stonewood Press, 2012)
More lovely poetry of nature, from close (and slightly spooky) encounters with creatures both dead and alive in forests, on hills and in the garden (‘Bird Buried’) to pagan celebrations, and everywhere the feel and smell of clay, soil, peat, coal and all that lies buried in the earth. There’s a touching memorial which appears to be to the poet’s mother (‘In principio’) and a couple of poems in some kind of dialect – which I struggled a bit with as I couldn’t ‘hear’ the voice, but no doubt would come to life in a reading. Many rich seams of meaning and experience to be uncovered in this short (and neatly packaged) collection. Favourite poem: ‘Bird Buried’.
Hugo Williams – Dear Room (Faber, 2006)
I think Hermione Lee in the cover blurb nicely sums up what I think of Hugo Williams – “.. a poet of such intimate charm, such grace and cunning, and such ordinary comical sadness”. I’ve dipped into this collection many times and it was easy to read it all through in one go. I know Williams’ work is regarded in some quarters as less than heavyweight. But personally I love the ‘accessible’ poems with their deadpan delivery and crushing irony, the small poems telling of big joy (eg ‘Pieces of Sky’) and even bigger melancholy (eg ‘The Cry’). So much to love in this collection – OK it’s not Crow, but who says you can’t enjoy both chocolate and curly kale? Favourite poem: ‘All the Way Down.’
Kim Lasky – Petrol, Cyan, Electric (Smith/Doorstop 2013)
This pamphlet is a real gem which was shortlisted for the Michael Marks award in 2013 and I don’t know why it hasn’t had the sort of widespread publicity and acclaim that it deserves. The poems link seemingly diverse topics as the science of colour (‘Newton Sees the Seventh Colour’), early experiments in electricity, a mother’s gradual loss of speech and slow descent – ‘We are past the fact of muscle, flesh and nails.’ (‘As if the very air’) and the poet’s imagined meeting with her father in 1944. It really does get better with every reading because there is always something more to discover and enjoy. Favourite poem: ‘There are not enough words in the language.’
This post is the latest update to my ‘Reading List’ project begun in July 2015.
Encouraged by Jayne Stanton’s marvellous ‘this is not about poetry’ blog post, I’m going off-piste today. Which is a stupid metaphor really as this is not about skiing, but TENNIS.
I enjoy watching a bit of Wimbledon although to be honest I went off it big time during that period when all the women were shrieking over every shot. Thankfully there are only a few major offenders left and the newer players don’t seem to have the habit. Hurrah the young generation!
As a teenager I loved going to Wimbledon (it was cheap to get in on a ‘ground’ ticket, and you could get onto all the courts with it, even Centre Court, although you had to stand.) But even closer to home was Beckenham, one of the warm-up events prior to Wimbledon. It was much smaller and more intimate, but you could get all the top players’ autographs as they strolled from the pavilion to the court – Jimmy Connors, Arthur Ashe, Margaret Court, all wandering around amongst the crowd – it was nuts.
So if you’re interested in tennis, you may like this: snaps of the programme from 1976 which I’ve kept. It was a bit of a shock to pick it up again and see the cover, proudly displaying the Robertsons logo, the whole thing would today be seen as WRONG, but back then no-one blinked an eye:
… clearly £2,000 was big money back then … and look at the difference between Men’s and Women’s (sorry, LADIES’) prize money:
And here’s an advert for British Leyland, in those heady days before Margaret Thatcher did for it:
The last word has to go to Donnay, or whichever agency produced what still for me is a standout ad. Was Bjorn Borg cool, or what?
In the first week of my ‘read a poetry book a day’ quest I actually managed five books rather than seven, but I think that’s a pretty good start. As promised here’s a very brief roundup of my impressions, and a few notes on how the process is going generally.
How to Pour Madness into a Teacup – Abegail Morley (Cinnamon, 2009)
A tense, claustrophobic world with two just principal protagonists (‘she’ and ‘he) and a series of nightmarish scenarios where little is said or sayable – ‘He reads her by her scars. / Does he remember writing them?’ (‘One Last Time’). The many references to limbs, hands, skin, nails and lips – dragging, wiping, scraping swallowing and sewing – of words, or body parts, or tears – is intensely physical and I felt completely pulled in. The poems are uncomfortable, but compelling – like staring at something you’d really rather turn away from. Read as a sequence at one sitting. Favourite poem: ‘Her Turn’.
Otherwhere – Catherine Smith (Smith/Doorstop, 2012)
Like Abegail, Catherine is both a friend and a poet for whom I have enormous respect. It was she who inspired me start the ‘Reading List’ project, as I explained in my last blog post. So who better to pick up and read in my first week. Reading Otherwhere in one go is rather than gorging on one of those huge chocolate Easter Eggs (in the days when they were filled with yet more chocolate.) One more piece? Oh go on then. In an effort to categorise the themes and styles I started trying to group individual poems under headings…Surreal, Satire, Poignant, Erotic charge, Childhood memory, Ironic observation and Powerful but hard to classify, which I admit is a bit of a cop out. A rich and rollicking great read. Favourite poem: ‘Story’.
A Recipe for Water – Gillian Clarke (Carcanet, 2009)
By the time I picked up A Recipe for Water I was starting to realise how much I have actually read of the poetry books I possess. I feel as if I haven’t had time to read them properly, but even having dipped in and out, I’m still finding many poems familiar. This collection is full of the beautiful nature poetry I associate with Gillian Clarke, her affinity with the Welsh language and her Welsh heritage – ”The sea turns its pages, speaking in tongues. / The stories are yours, and you are the story.’ – ‘First Words’. Favourite poem: ‘Kites’.
Brumaire and Later – Alasdair Paterson (Flarestack, 2010)
Ooh! I struggled a little here. A pamphlet, so short in length, but very dense. It’s in two halves and built around the premise of the French revolutionary calendar, ‘ in which not only every month but every day was re-named after familiar flora, fauna and work tools’. In the second half, the poems take on the same theme but extend it into post-revolutionary Russia. Not having any great handle on these undoubtedly historic events, I couldn’t quite crack the code. (I blame my French Revolution phobia on being force-fed A Tale of Two Cities when I was eleven.) But I liked the conceit of it, and it makes for some wonderful titles, from ‘Apple’ and ‘Goose’ to ‘Ear’ and ‘Holes’. Probably very entertaining to hear at a reading, with some background preamble.
Overwintering -Pippa Little (Carcanet, 2012)
I came across a poem by Pippa Little relatively recently and wanted to read more of her work. Pippa has a wide range of styles and registers, and many of the poems here are rooted in the Northumbrian landscape, its history and its characters. You could glance at the copious notes at the back and worry about what you’re getting into, but no need. The poems are perfectly enjoyable even if you don’t know what the odd word means or refers to (always a sign of good writing, in my book). It was easy to read through this collection in one go, and plenty that was memorable, such as ‘Beijing Flight, Thursday Morning’, ‘After Flooding’ and ‘Spending One Day with Patrick Kavanagh’. Favourite poem: ‘Axis’.
To begin with it felt wrong to be reading poetry books as I would a novel – no re-reading or going back (or very little), just ploughing on. But there were unexpected benefits. First of all, when I got the end of a book, especially if I had read it through in one sitting, I found I had very good sense of the work, a big picture if you like, more wood than trees.
Secondly, there are sometimes extended or concurrent themes that may not be obvious when cherry picking or dipping in and out. A repeated word here and there, references between poems (intertextuality, I think that’s called?) and other nuances seem to ping out when you consume a whole book at once. You see many subtle and clever things that you might not otherwise.
It wasn’t easy at first, especially fighting my instinct to re-read when something wasn’t clear. I didn’t re-read until I’d got the end of the collection, and it paid off. On returning to individual poems they seemed so much clearer and familiar the second time around, more so than if I had spent half an hour doing a close reading of a single poem.