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Terry.
https://terryquinnpoetryuk.wordpress.com/
terry quinn poetry uk
Tuesday 29 October 2019
Sunday 27 October 2019
Damson Poets is
on this coming Wednesday, 30th October, and will be held in the Snug
at the Continental. This month I am really pleased that Jane Routh is our Guest Reader
Jane Routh has published four
collections (most recently Listening to the Night 2018). She won the Poetry
Business Book and Pamphlet Competition with her first collection, and has been
shortlisted for a Forward Prize and had a Poetry Book Society Recommendation.
Jane
contributes articles and reviews to several journals and has also published a
prose book, Falling into Place, on wildlife, weather and work in the rural area
where she lives in north Lancashire, managing an area of ASNW and new woodlands.
She
was asked by the BBC to write a poem for this year’s National Poetry Day. Here
is the result:
Friday 18 October 2019
One
of the pleasures of being in a local Poetry Society such as Preston Poets is
that there are always people who know stuff about poets I should have heard of.
Last
night David Wilkinson gave a fascinating talk on:
Norman
Nicholson - The underappreciated Lake Poet
Norman
Nicholson was born in Millom, Cumbria, in
1914 and lived there for the rest of his life. He was award the Queen's Gold
Medal for Poetry in 1977, and the OBE in 1981.
Nicholson also wrote what David thought of as the
best Guide to the Lakes ever written.
David
is an antiquarian bookseller and member of our Society and brought along 12
copies of Nicholson’s selected poems which he handed out to keep.
Monday 14 October 2019
Going on courses
A few months ago I
went to a poetry reading that was followed by a Q&A session. Whether Q&A is a
good thing may be dealt with another time.
Anyway, during this session someone asked the
panel of the poets who
had been reading whether going to Poetry
Courses, Exhibitions, Festivals etc increased one’s chances of getting
published. The question was related to the ability to pay for these quite
expensive events if one was unemployed or on a
low wage. This, obviously, means that one is not making
contacts or friends in the poetry scene.
The answer was that this made no difference at all and
that if one’s work was good enough then it would be published.
What a load of rubbish.
I could name half a dozen books off the top of my head
that would not have seen the light of day without the poet knowing the
publisher. And I’m not just talking about going to the same University.
Wednesday 9 October 2019
I wrote the following for Lancashire Dead Good Poets a few months ago:
‘In 2012 I tuned into the BBC for a reading of The Wasteland by
Jeremy Irons and Eileen Atkins. I seem to remember recoiling in a mixture of
horror and laughter. I'm not sure about Atkins, but Jeremy wasn't reading but
performing.That was when I started to notice that there is a difference between
poets reading poetry and actors reading poetry. I came across a phrase that
sums up that difference. This person (and I can't find their name, damn it)
said "Actors read vowels and poets read consonants." Another way of
looking at it is that vowels are the emotion and consonants are the intellect.
Consonants can only be spoken in one way and so make speech hard and crisp but
vowels can be pronounced in many ways. Thus with consonants there is a
concentration on the words being spoken but with vowels their open-ended nature
gives rise to you listening to the pronunciation, the rise and fall of the
voice, and away from the meaning of the poem.’
Later
I came across this in an article I had saved in 2013. I’m pretty sure it was by
Al Alverez:
Given the chance, I'd expel
actors from my poetic republic, on pain of hearing an endlessley repeated
reading of Tennyson's 'Break, Break, Break', given by Donald Sinden. Because,
for the most part, they just don't get it. Their oratorical training lends them
power, charisma, grandiosity and flashes of the craftily sincere, but also a
tendency towards what Basil Fawlty described as the bleeding obvious. Those
silken or trumpeting tones belong in the auditorium or on the screen: they are
so rarely equipped to touch on the idiosyncratic mysteries of the poem.
Some years ago, there was a Radio 4 reading of Keats's 'The Eve of St
Agnes' by Michael Maloney. It should have been a rare treat to hear the whole
of a great poem. It wasn't. Maloney's enunciation, his intonation, his abrupt,
non-metrical pauses, his obtrusive sense of himself were all so acute that the
effect was emetic rather than scary, sensual, forbidden and delicious. No inner
life: all display.On another occasion I witnessed Fiona Shaw reading Eliot's 'Waste Land', a show that won golden acclaim. She can be a fine actress, certainly but what she inflicted on 'The Waste Land' failed to capture its fragmentation, its repressed torment, its distinctly conservative apocalypse. Pound knew what he was about with his editing and what he didn't aim for was melodrama. Listen to Eliot's own reading and you will overhear the true timbre of desperation. Especially on Margate beach.
The flaws in a poet's reading are very often an aspect of the poem's dark corners and infuriating ambiguities. Take Simon Armitage on the West Yorkshire attack; Jackie Kay a burst of sunshine, a growl of rage. Seamus Heaney, that gentle, tough, tentative bear of a man. Or the deceptively offhand Don Patterson, the quirky, stubborn, slightly bonkers Selima Hill, the much-more-acerbic-than-she-seems Wendy Cope.
Monday 4 May 2015
standing
One of the minor delights of working as a Medical Engineer
in the NHS was the opportunity to slip off if I’d been sitting down too much at
the bench. Save up a few jobs and say I’m just going to Ward such and such and
I could have a stroll, a chat to people and get back a bit later refreshed.
One of the problems of writing now is the sitting down
without an excuse to move. I always fancied getting a lectern. In fact, I still
do. But I did find a sort of solution towards the end of last year when, of all
things, I’d put a small table on top of my dining ( and writing ) table to get
it out of the way when I vacuumed. The combined height is just about right
although the surface area could be improved. Vacuumed.
I use it for two tasks. In the morning I can lean on it,
hold it and lean back, stretch my legs and most usefully it can be used to lay
down my A4 sheets, pencil and rubber. In the evening it does duty as a place to
put my laptop.
I was feeling rather pleased with myself until I discovered that
loads of other writers have written standing up. Rather confusingly not many
seem to be writers that I like.
However, I then found that there are other ways of solving
my problem. There are actually companies that make stand up desks with or
without drawers. I presume an online search would find something to suit and
joy of joys I’ve heard of some that come with a foot rail.
I have seen an adjustable computer desk although I can’t remember
where it was. And I don’t really like designed computer desks as most that I’ve
seen are useless.
It’s possible also to make a desk that fits to the wall. I
have thought about this but I don’t really have the space unless it folded up
and I think I’d find that irritating.
I just had a peep on the internet to check on any articles
on standing and writing and blow me there’s dozens. In the second one I read
the writer actually said ‘that having a stand up desk is now hip’. Hip.
Oh, well.
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