Category: Books

At least Spring isn’t cancelled

There’s something about the sun coming out that puts a positive spin on everything. I’ve even taken to going for a bit of a jog on the seafront. With gym and swim off the agenda we are still fortunate to be able to get up and run/walk. Thank goodness that’s still allowed. I have a friend who lives alone and we’ve pledged to meet once a week for a speed walk on the seafront, keeping our distance of course (but we both talk loudly so that’s not really an issue – just can’t gossip as much!) Yes, the sky really is this blue at the moment (but the restaurant is now shut of course).

Eastbourne seafront

Last week Nick spotted frogspawn in the pond  – our first ever batch. I caught one of the goldfish red-handed, nibbling on it, but most of it’s still there. Will we get any frogs at the end of it? The saga begins.

Frogspawn

I’ve been sowing seeds like crazy this last month, and various things are coming up: courgettes, tomatoes, chillis, peas, nasturtiums, sweet peas, basil, coriander. A bit of warmer weather would help. I’ve got two small propagators on south-facing window sills which is sunny but can get very hot, so I seem to yo-yo between pulling down the blinds (“Quick! They’re gonna fry!”) and turning on the warmth overnight so they don’t expire from cold.

My favourite place at the moment is the potting shed, or ‘pottery’ as we call it, because it’s easier to say (?). There’s a heated mat to get things going, and a poetry wall to keep me entertained in between mixing up seed compost…

Seedlings in the potting shed

Seedlings and poetry wall

Meanwhile, every evening there’s the Scrabble challenge. I believe I’m currently ahead 4 -2. When he’s not trying to beat me at Scrabble, N has taken to reading the odd TOME or two… although sometimes he gets distracted…

N starts War&Peace

What make me laugh most is the cover – ‘A MAJOR BBC DRAMA’!

I’ve just finished Ragnarok, a reworking of Norse myths by A S Byatt, rather fittingly about the End of the World. It’s just the sort of antidote to Dante. Next up, Hilary Mantel’s The Mirror and the Light – I was going to wait for the paperback, but decided to treat myself.

I’ve been struck how this pandemic situation has been bringing people closer. I’ve been in touch more with friends in Rome, Australia and the US, and even those closer to home, than ever before. Suddenly we all share the same incredulity, restrictions, fears, sympathy, changes to our day to day living, ideas of how to stay positive and active.

I hope you’re staying well and occupied wherever you may be. Vinceremo, as they (might) say in Italy.

New update to the UK poetry mags submissions list. Also Spring coming soon.

Yesterday I sent out the latest update to the magazines subs list, which if you’re on my mailing list you should have received, so let me know if not.

There are now 112 journals (print and online) on the spreadsheet – but of course I’m always open to suggestions of more to include. The spreadsheet contains all the magazine names, publishing frequency, submission page URLs, submissions window dates, how many poems to send and other criteria. I’ve also now replaced all those way-too-long submission page URLs with TinyURLs which means you can click straight through – no more broken links or cutting & pasting.

If you’ve subscribed since yesterday, I’ll be doing another mailout later today so you’ll get it then. If you know anyone who might find the info useful, please tell them to sign up today and they’ll catch the next mailout. The sign-up form is on this page.

Giveaway

Meanwhile, thank you to those of you interested in the free copy of Tamar Yoseloff’s Formerly – I put all the names in a bag and Nick drew out the winner, none other than…. Peter Raynard – nice one, Peter, and commiserations to everyone else.

Fundraising for The Trussell Trust – latest

I’ve been pledging £1 from the sale of each copy of my latest pamphlet WHY? to the Trussell Trust (working to end UK hunger) and today I was able to make a donation of £30. Thanks so much to everyone who has contributed to this. The pledge is ongoing if you haven’t ordered the pamphlet yet 🙂

More good news

It’s March. Spring can’t be far off, can it?

Free Verse at Conway Hall

Up to London yesterday for the The Poetry Book & Magazine Fair aka Free Verse, at a new time of year (February rather than September) and back at Conway Hall.

Recently I’ve been plagued by headaches so after getting off the train I decided what I needed was a nice fresh(?) air walk across London from Victoria to Holburn.  It’s almost a straight line if you don’t mind the crowds – Buckingham Palace, Piccadilly Circus,  Shaftesbury Avenue – but of course I tried to be clever by diving down side streets and avoiding tourists or shoppers. This always means a few poor decisions and at least another ten minutes to the journey. But it’s often serendipitous. On Savile Row I passed a blue plaque announcing ‘The Beatles played their last concert on the roof of this building’. A few streets later I came across Marshall Street Baths, a 1930s building now restored and reopened as a public leisure centre in a most unexpected location in Soho. I remember visiting it when I was working for Nike in the 1990s, to assess its suitability as a venue for a fitness event. In the end we went with Seymour Leisure Centre in Marylebone, another historic old ‘baths’ (of the type mostly disappeared from our towns) now brought into the 21st century.

I love walking around London and discovering quirky, lost or almost lost sites. Author Paul Talling’s ‘Derelict London’ walks are a must if you’re into this sort of thing and within striking distance of the city. I’ve been on a few of them – but you have to book months ahead, as they fill up within minutes of his posting them online. Subscribe to his email alerts and you’re given a day’s warning so you can be ready on the dot of 9am to hit ‘buy tickets’. Paul’s site is fascinating and labyrinthine, but you can sign up for his emails here if you’re interested the walks.

You may wonder what this has got to do with poetry, but in fact it segues very neatly into a little pamphlet from Tamar Yoseloff’s Hercules Editions that I picked up yesterday, called Formerly. It was the first pamphlet from the press, and a collaboration with photographer Vici Macdonald. Vici’s photos of London’s derelict buildings, ghost adverts and Victorian boozers were the prompts for Tammy’s sonnets. Doorstep sellers, ‘Sweeney’-style low life, barmaids and the dead are some of the voices in these poems, as the poet imagines the people inhabiting these nearly-gone and semi-lost places.  It’s accompanied by a pull-out guide describing the locations, and Vici’s and Tammy’s accompanying notes. Fascinating. I admit I’m a sucker for attractive packaging and Hercules specialise in gorgeous covers – fab fonts, spot varnish and gold leaf abound! The press’s latest publication is Martyn Crucefix’s Cargo of Limbs, which I also bought and am looking forward to reading.

Here’s my haul from yesterday:

Books from Free Verse the poetry book fair

During the afternoon I was helping Jeremy Page on the Frogmore Press table, now becoming a bit of a tradition. Next to us was Andy Croft of Smokestack, with whom I had some fascinating conversations about the ethos behind his press, communist poets, mutual friends such as Peter Raynard, and the like. I covered for his table when both he and Jeremy were on a break, and managed to sell two books and two copies of the Frogmore Papers. I’m not sure I did so well the rest of the afternoon but it was a flying start!

As ever, the Fair was as great chance to catch up, meet for the first time or just wave ‘hello’ to lots of lovely poets including Abigail Parry, Carrie Etter, Susannah Hart, Briony Bax, Tamar Yoseloff, Jess Mookherjee, Sarah James, Jinny Fisher, Liz Bahs, Joolz & Hilaire, Rishi Dastidar and Davina Prince. If I’ve left anyone out I do apologise. It was also nice to chat with people generally while on the Frogmore table, including some people who turned out to be non-poets but just come in to browse and check it out. Which was fantastic. It was quite a crush all day, but I did feel it was the friendliest Free Verse I’d been to so far. Huge thanks to the Poetry Society for their organisation of the event.

I’d like to give a shout to Jeremy Dixon of Hazard Press and his intricately-made books. At a past Fair I’d bought three of his ‘micro books’, this time my eye was drawn to pocket-sized pamphlet called Caught by a Wave, which opens out into two concertinas featuring found black and white photos and overprinted with words that repeat and overspill (rather like waves I guess). Some of the print is overlaid in blue foil. Jeremy explained that he tries not to buy new material but to use what he has already collected. Each booklet featured sightly different paper stock or colour of cover. I have number 21 of 40. A collector’s item! I was also sorely tempted by My Nineties Madonna Scrapbook, but that will have to wait for a future fair, if it’s not sold out.

caught-by-a-wave - Hazard Press

Conway Hall is an iconic building, home of the Ethical Society and venue for all kinds of events. Yesterday the Main Hall was crammed with poetry people and books, but the balcony provided a quiet place to take time out. Also a good place to take pictures.

conwayhall-stairway

Free Verse 2020

Free Verse Poetry Book Fair 2020

When the Fair ended, I was due to meet a friend for supper in Crystal Palace, that’s deepest South London to those not in the know. I was supposed to walk to City Thameslink station, but took a wrong turning somehow and ended up walking all the way to Blackfriars and catching a train from there. So it was definitely a ‘see London’ day yesterday.

I actually bought two copies of Formerly by Tamar Yoseloff and Vici Macdonald and to celebrate a lovely day at Free Verse I’d like to give one away to one of my blog readers. Just leave me a note in the comments telling me why you’d like it, and if there’s more than one I’ll put the names in a hat and draw a winner.

A chilled start to the year

January 15th and I’m just getting round to my first post of the year, something that would have concerned me a bit in the past but for the new decade I’m surprisingly chilled. A new decade. Hmmm. Is it me, or has it passed rather under the radar this year? I think I remember the start of the 80s in terms of pop music if nothing else. “Pop go the seventies!” You have to put that into context: there were only 3 TV channels in those days, no web, no TV on demand, no mobile phones etc etc. So Who Was Number One in the Hit Parade was pretty key. BUT I have no time for all those click-bait/lazy media articles about how ‘boring’ the Olde Days were. I’m probably preaching to the converted, so moving on…

Currently reading

I have a lovely pile of books to read and so far I’ve absolutely loved Hubert Moore’s The Feeding Station (Shoestring Press) which I’ve reviewed for an upcoming issue of The Frogmore Papers. Moore is a good example of a poet who’s been writing for some time and isn’t part of the social media merry-go-round, nor the champing-at-the-bit-for-readings crowd. I’m sorry to say I’d not heard of him, because this collection is wonderful. I feel quite inspired, and certainly will be seeking out more by him.

Another poet I’ve finally got around to reading properly is David Borrott. David was one of the standout poets on a course I did at Ty Newydd back in 2013. His pamphlet Porthole was a Laureate’s Choice (Smith Doorstop) in 2015 and I can see why. The pamphlet is wide-ranging in subject matter and very accomplished. Nothing predictable about it, very enjoyable.

My subscription to Stand magazine is drawing to a close so I’ll be moving onto another publication shortly, in line with my ‘subscription rotation’ policy. I’ve really enjoyed my year with Stand, it’s quite different and I’ve discovered names I’ve not read before, for example in this issue (Volume 17/4) Natalie Linh Bolderston and Iain Twiddy.

I’m about halfway through Robert Hamberger’s Blue Wallpaper (Waterloo Press) and enjoying it immensely, which is probably why I’m taking my time over it. For me his work still feels vastly underrated. There is so much to love in his poetry. Robert is also quiet and modest, qualities that I can’t help but find endearing. All I can say is, seek him out. The works speaks for itself.

Back in the summer I decided to read Dante’s Divine Comedy, in a Penguin parallel edition with the original Italian and Robert Kirkpatrick’s translation. Many decades ago I was an eighteen-year-old ingenue in Rome, arriving by train and taking up an au pair job while speaking no Italian. My host family were kind enough to enrol me in the Dante Alighieri School to learn the language. This was my first encounter with Dante, and I’m ashamed to say it took me all this time to decide to actually read his most famous work. It would have happened sooner if I hadn’t changed course at University and ditched Italian literature. So – I galloped through Hell (Inferno), then spent around two months in Purgatory. There was so much to process. When I reached the end, I felt I needed to re-read the introduction. But now I’ve just started Paradiso – although I’m still only on the introduction, which is itself daunting. Interestingly, Nick is conducting a performance of ‘The Dream of Gerontius’ in Brighton in March, which is basically a story about a soul’s journey after death through Purgatory and beyond. So we’re been comparing notes over dinner: is there actually a Lake in Purgatory, or two rivers (as Dante describes)? Is it possible to be regaled by Demons trying to lure you to Hell once you’re in Purgatory (Gerontius) or are you impervious to that? (Dante) I have to remind myself now and then that this is all pretty much theoretical.

Currently writing, and a resolve for 2020

One reason I haven’t been blogging much lately as that I’ve been writing, which is of course an excellent thing. Several new poems in the pipeline plus I’ve been creating a skeleton for a collection, complete with ideas and poem titles on card which I move around and play games with. The new work is putting flesh on the skeleton.

This year I’ve decided not to enter any competitions, a decision that was reinforced when I received a recent email exhorting me to enter a particular competition which appears to have raised its entry fee considerably, while the prize money seems spectacularly unspectacular. Harrumph! My magazine subscriptons and submissions will carry on though.

My competition ban (in terms of pamphlet or book comps) may have to be relaxed if my collection plans progress well… but I’m trying not to succumb. Definitely no single poem comps though!

Ah! The business of poetry blogging

Oh no!

It’s been a few weeks since my last post, and yet Matthew Stewart has still generously kept me on his list of ‘Best UK Poetry Blogs of 2019’. Matthew observes that 2019 was ‘far from being a vintage year’ for blogging, and his suggestions of why this might be are interesting: keeping a blog going can be a chore at times, once you stop it’s hard to get going again, sometimes you can’t help wondering if you’re writing into a vacuum.

I’d rather be bog-snorkelling  bragging  blogging

In some ways, writing this blog is no more of a chore than writing actual poems, in that I prefer not to force either of them, but to let them happen when the inclination hits me. Having said that, I know it’s not good to leave a blog hanging for too long. I do from time to time give myself a goal, such as ‘write a blog post a week’ or ‘start a poem a day for a month’. I haven’t done either of those for a while, but I’ve been gee’d on by others lately. Heather Walker has been blogging every day recently and it’s been fascinating to read. Josephine Corcoran shared recently that she’d written twenty new poems. Lordy! That’s probably my annual output. And Mat Riches has been blogging every week for some time, AND he sent out 161 poems this year – BLIMEY.

Coming soon – the stats of shame

Actually Mat’s post reminded me that my annual roundup of subs/rejections/acceptances is due. I doubt I’ll be offering any natty graphs. Somewhat a visual feels like it might be a detail too far. But hey! Let’s see…

I do know that even if I’m not blogging, I’m reading other people’s blogs. They come at my inbox every Monday morning and I never cease to be amazed at how much thought, energy, creativity and generosity goes into blogs. And with the boot on the other foot, I’m eternally grateful to my readers, aka YOU, for taking the time to read this.

Current reading list

My poetry books-to-read pile currently includes the Winter issues of Rattle and The Moth, Clarissa Aykroyd’s Island of Towers (Broken Sleep Books), Hubert Moore’s The Feeding Station (Shoestring) which I’m reviewing for The Frogmore Papers, Katie Griffiths’ My Shrink Is Pregnant (one of my fellow Live Canon Pamphleteers) and Robert Hamberger’s Blue Wallpaper (Waterloo). Recently I received a copy of Sarah Windebank’s super first collection, Memories of a Swedish Grandmother (Myriad Editions). I was lucky enough to get a review copy, and wrote a short testimonial for the book.

And so this is Christmas…

I only got 6 out of 18 in the Guardian’s Christmas Number Ones quiz – although I think it was a swizz as there were only one or two questions about the seventies! Come on, Christmas was invented in the 70s! Can you do better??

Recent reading

I’ve got into a rhythm of reading a Canto of Dante’s Purgatory each night before falling asleep, sometimes I get through the chapter commentary & notes too, sometimes not. If I’m too tired to finish the Canto I have to start it again the next day. Purgatorio is a more complex read than Inferno. There are just as many references to people and politics of the time, requiring explanation, but it seems to me there’s more characterisation and symbolism to get one’s head around, not to mention the philosophical wondering it’s sent me on.

Alongside this I’ve had a number of poetry collections on the go recently. Perhaps I’m getting more reading done this month because I’m not drinking alcohol? I can’t really see the connection, but I’m struggling to notice any other benefits to Dry November except the feeling of smug satisfaction that I can do it, if I put my mind to it. I hope I’m not jinxing it by making that claim when there are twelve days to go. Anyway, I wish I could commune with my internal organs and ask them if they’re feeling detoxified or rejuvenated.

Getting to the point (I know! finally!), here’s a roundup…

Each Other by Clare Best

Clare Best, Each Other (Waterloo Press £12)

I always make sure I settle down with a nice glass of wine cup of tea before delving into a new collection from Clare, because I know I’ll be reading it in one go. She manages to write with such punch, and yet it’s so elegantly understated. The second half of the book is the title sequence, charting a relationship from courtship to old age. Somehow Clare gets to the (sometimes heartbreaking) bottom of the subject with both grace and humour. The first section contains some beautiful, quite personal poems honouring family ties, love and loss. ‘In February’ is especially moving – ‘You’re introduced to angels […] look, they welcome you with song and wine/ as I would, darling. But I must stay behind.’

A Second Whisper by Lynne Hjelmgaard

Lynne Hjelmgaard, A Second Whisper (Seren, £9.99)

Another new release, from another poet friend (disclosure!) In reading many of these poems I feel I’m being invited into a very private space in which the poet mourns the loss of her husband and the subsequent journey that takes her into another loving relationship which also ends in that partner’s death. If that sounds morbid then it’s not – there is more celebration than sadness here, and the reader is left with a strong sense of love, gratitude and hope. Like Clare Best, Lynne has a connection with nature that permeates her explorations of human relationships. ‘Planted on either side of the garden / they slowly inch their way closer/until finally (a century or two later)/ the fir leans into its beloved palm.’ (‘Three Tree Poem’).

Head On by Clare Shaw

Clare Shaw, Head On (Bloodaxe 2012, £8.95)

The book’s blurb tells us we’re in for ‘interweaving themes of personal and political conflict’ and indeed you’re straight into this from the first poem, the powerful ‘I do not believe in silence’, with its repeated ‘because..’ and the turn from ‘I do not believe..’ into the positive: ‘I believe in the heart and its beat / and its bleep and the dance of the trace / on the screen…’ This rhythmic quality is a kind of drumbeat that drives the whole collection. The subject matter is often raw – injustices, dementia, rape, miscarriage – but it also bursts with passion and pure love:

‘How love must, at all costs,

be answered. We have answered
and so have a million before us
and each of their names is a vow.

So now I can tell you, quite simply
you are the house I will live in’

(‘Vow’)

Something that surprised me was the number of dactyls, particularly from the poem ‘A withered brown flower takes on a new colour’ (title dactylic in itself) to the end of the book. There was something about putting these poems back-to-back that meant the metre became a stumbling block in my reading of them. Still a wow of a book though.

The main reason I ordered Head On was because Clare’s one of the tutors at Kim Moore’s Poetry Carousel that I’m going to next month. Similarly, I’ve ordered books by David Tait and Malika Booker, to get at least a feel for their work. So more on those collections in another post.

Dante on Brexit

I’m only at the first layer of Hell but am already enjoying the ride that is Dante’s Inferno. And it’s all feeling rather relevant despite having been written over seven hundred years ago.

In his excellent introduction Robin Kirkpatrick explains Dante’s conception of Hell, where sinners are ranked according to just how bad their crimes have been. Some readers may be surprised to see the ‘sins of the flesh’ and even murder consigned to the mid-range.

Go right down to the depths and you’ll find the ‘sins of deceit’ : corruption officials,  intellectual dishonesty, ‘rabble rousing’ and treachery.

‘For Dante, the most heinous offences that a human can commit are those which threaten to destroy the unity and cohesion of the social order,’ says Kirkpatrick. He reminds us that the Commedia was written at a time when ‘the new wilderness of mercantile capitalism began to establish itself’ and when ‘there appeared an irrigating surge of prophetic voices, declaring that too much a concentration on the here-and-now […] could only diminish the scope of human possibilities.’

Here’s the map, just in case our PM and any of his supporters would like to set their SatNav now:

Dante's Plan of Hell

Back to school, current reading & looking forward

Back. After twelve days or so away I’m feeling positively autumnal and a bit ‘back to school’ (garden looking blousy, woollies coming out the wardrobe, wondering when Masterchef starts, etc).

I haven’t got back into any new writing but that will come. Sometimes I get the feeling I’m waiting  – for inspiration maybe – for a collection of poems, rather than a poem here, a poem there – and I’m a bit annoyed with myself. I really enjoyed hearing Kei Miller read at Hastings LitFest a few weeks ago, and he surprised some us by saying that he only wrote poems when he had a book in mind, and when there’s no book in mind, there are no poems. This was refreshing in a way – I’ve never been one of those people who are disciplined to write every day (not poetry, anyway). I’ve also never been very good at using exercises or ‘free writing’ as a means of churning out (or up?) ideas into proto-poems. Thinking in ‘book’ terms appeals to me and I do it a lot – trouble is, it seems to be in parallel to writing poems; I haven’t yet tied the two together. And I need to remember that Kei Miller also writes novels, so he’s quite possibly knocking out several books in those poetry dry-times. Ha!

Current reading

The September edition of Poetry, which seems to be breaking the boundaries this month with the inclusion of graphic prose poetry, a computer program, pictures of fans and a couple of essays… intriguing.

Madeleine Wurzburger‘s pamphlet Sleeve Catching Fire at Dawn (Smith/Doorstop), a gift from Marion Tracy. The poems are written in a kind of pseudo-historical style, in that they seem to be (on the face of it) well-researched historic portraits, commentary, testimonies. But they’re witty, funny in places, and certainly interesting.

Stephen Sexton‘s first collection If All the World and Love were Young (Penguin) – what a gem of a title for starters. You’ll be reading plenty of reviews of this, watch as it comes up for various awards. I was at the prize giving ceremony for the National Poetry Competition in 2017 when this poet won it, still in his early twenties. Oh my. This book was a slow burner for me, but I’ve read nothing like it. Very subtle and original and all the more moving for it. If you get a quarter of the way through and you’ve still no idea what’s going on, trust me and stick with it! Nice piece here by Stephen in the Irish Times, on the background to the book.

Coming up, in brief

Next week two lovely poet friends, Clare Best and Robert Hamberger, are launching their new collections in Brighton and I’m hoping to go, but if not then I’ll definitely hear them read at Needlewriters in Lewes next month, for which I’ll be MC-ing which is always fun. Also next month I’ll be running a workshop for some lovely High Weald Stanza writers. Some time in November I’ll have a new pamphlet ready to launch, alongside three fine Live Canon pamphleteers. And I’ll be reading in London in November at a special night being organised by Mat Riches and Matthew Stewart.

Meanwhile I’m still deciding whether to renew my membership of the Poetry Book Society. I tend to buy poetry books at readings, or second-hand. I’m not sure how useful I find the PBS Bulletin which basically includes brief review/blurbs, long poet blogs, huge poet photos and a sample poem for each of the ‘recommendations’. Pamphlets only get a very small amount of space. Buying through the PBS doesn’t save any money (once you factor in the postage cost and cost of membership). Or should I not be looking at it in those terms?  I’d be interested to know people’s thoughts on this.

 

A few thoughts from Virginia Woolf on praise and fame

Virginia Woolf’s A Writer’s Diary is proving a rich source of inspiration. On the subject of a writer’s insecurity, it’s refreshing to find the same things bothered her that do us all – is my writing any good, what will people make of it, how come so-and-so got more coverage/attention than me, and so on. She didn’t have social media to cope with of course, but she had a fiercely intellectual and competitive circle of friends and family, and the media of her day carried enormous influence.

Here are a few extracts I’ve enjoyed so far. (‘Nessa’ is Vanessa Bell, VW’s sister, and ‘Lytton’ is Lytton Strachey.)

Shall I ever be able to read it again?

March 1919 

“I don’t suppose I’ve ever enjoyed any writing so much as I did the last half of Night and Day. Indeed, no part of it taxed me as The Voyage Out did; and if one’s own ease and interest promise anything good, I should have hopes that some people at least will find it a pleasure. I wonder if I shall ever be able to read it again? Is the time coming when I can endure to read my own writing in print without blushing—shivering and wishing to take cover?”

This question of praise and fame

March 1921

“Nessa approved of Monday or Tuesday—mercifully; and thus somewhat redeems it in my eyes. I now wonder a little what reviewers will make of it—this time next month. Let me try to prophesy. Well, The Times will be kindly, a little cautious. Mrs Woolf, they will say, must beware of virtuosity. She must beware of obscurity. Her great natural gifts etc etc. … […] then, in the Westminster, Pall Mall and other serious evening papers I shall be be treated very shortly with sarcasm.

[…] And I ought to be writing Jacob’s Room and I can’t […] you see, I’m a failure as a writer. I’m out of fashion: old: shan’t do any better […] my book out (prematurely) and nipped, a damp firework. […] Ralph sent my book out to The Times for review without date of publication in it. Thus a short notice is scrambled through to be in “on Monday at latest”, put in an obscure place, rather scrappy, complimentary enough, but quite unintelligent. Oh, and Lytton’s book is out and takes up three columns […] my temper sank and sank till for half an hour I was as depressed as I ever am.  […] To rub this in we had a festive party at 41: to congratulate Lytton; which was all it should be, but then he never mentioned my book, which I suppose he has read, and for the first time I have not his praise to count on.

[…] This question of praise and fame must be faced. […] I think the only prescription for me is to have a thousand interests—if one is damaged [by criticism] to be able instantly to let my energy flow into Russian, or Greek, or the Press, or my garden, or people, or some activity disconnected with my own writing.”

Beyond boasting – the supreme triumph

May 1921

“I sat in Gordon Square yesterday for an hour and a half talking to Maynard [Keynes]. […] Maynard said he liked praised, and always wanted to boast. He said that many men marry in order to have a wife to boast to. But, I said, it’s odd that one boasts considering that no-one is ever taken in by it. It’s odd too that you of all people should want praise. You and Lytton are passed beyond boasting —which is the supreme triumph. […] I love praise, he said. I want it for the things I am doubtful about.”

London Undercurrents at Clapham Bookshop

Joolz Sparkes and Hilaire have been collaborating on London Undercurrents for a number of years and I was delighted when it was published by Holland Park Press earlier this year. I wasn’t able to make the launch dates and have keeping an eye on when they would be reading again. I’ve heard both Joolz and Hilaire read some of these poems before and have always enjoyed them. So when I saw they were reading at Clapham Bookshop last night, I hot-footed it up.

London Undercurrents is ‘the hidden histories of London’s unsung heroines, north and south of the river’. Some of the women depicted are real people, others imagined but based on factual histories of particular jobs, workplaces and locations. The book is organised in thematic sections, each introduced by ‘fragments’ from North and South.

I’m looking forward to reading it – it’s coming with me on my reading/writing break next week. But for now, here’s Hilaire reading ‘At 65, Miss Lancaster is still at the wheel’:

Joolz & Hilaire with London Undercurrents
Joolz Sparkes & Hilaire