BOOK REVIEW / Upper-class yells from a quiet man
Bernard O'Donoghue discovers virile songs and blooming irises in four new collections
Saturday 02 March 1996
Not that Crawford's rhetorical virility entirely deserts him as he exposes the defects of masculine ideology. The second poem, "Chaps", has an acting note (Crawford is an outstanding performer of his poems): the refrain must be "first of all yelled in an upper-class English voice - 'CHEPS!','' before, "falling to a whisper at the end''. Some of the best effects come by way of resistance to the quietness of the family poems, as when the vita nuova of the previously ambitious young artist is expressed by the admirable neologism "Bovrilised". The relief at the escape back into verbal sparks is unmissable in "Scotch Broth":
"A soup so thick you could shake its hand
And stroll with it before dinner".
The domestic poems are often beautiful and accomplished, especially those that offset the threat of domestic mawkishness with the consonantal roughness of Scots. But stand by for the old Crawford again, with sleeves rolled for more than the washing-up.
Ruth Padel is another vigorous and forceful exponent of language, whose new book Fusewire (Chatto, pounds 6.99) runs two themes together: sex (not new in her poems) and English colonising of Ireland. What is most striking about her anti-colonial rhetoric in the latter is that their fierce, dry irony could not be employed by an Irish writer without appearing inflammatory. Padel works her two subjects together brilliantly, in titles like "Your Place or Mine?".
The second of the book's two epigraphs introduces the perfect figure for the amalgam: "Desire paths", which are "private routes through public spaces" that urban planners have not allowed for. The harshness of sex in the war-zone, in poems such as "Desire Paths of Sarajevo", is reminiscent of Gravity's Rainbow in its bleakness. What is so impressive and so desolating is the Dantesque sense of misery in the spirit's fated, instinctive push towards happiness which is bound to fail in these contexts - and also maybe in any other.
Padel is an outsider in Ireland, and "foreign" is a recurrent term. Michael O'Loughlin, who has been credited with trying to write into Irish history the Dublin urban experience it has ignored, is now on the well-beaten track of Irish poets abroad. In Another Nation: New and Selected Poems (Arc/ New Ireland Books, pounds 6.95), his language is lively, exuberant and profligate, as he attempts to cross-fertilise Irish culture with a multilingual cosmopolitanism, reading like a more innocent, if no less ambitious, Stephen Dedalus. Despite the attractive energy, the speed and range of his references (to Trakl, Vermeer, Tsvetaeva, Brahms, Vellego) can lead to a blurring of purpose. Thus we understand his desire for the non-urban simplicity of "Michael Hartnett's Irish" -
"I heard the sound
Of the snow falling through moonlight
Onto the empty fields," -
while recognising uneasily that such romanticism represents a back-sliding from O'Loughlin's grander programme.
Louise Gluck is never romantic, despite her extraordinarily Romanticism- derived subject. The Wild Iris (Carcanet, pounds 8.95) is the ultimate paysage moralise, an account of the passing year, with the days divided into the canonical hours of dawn and dusk, through addresses from flowers to gardeners. Often this turns magnificently into an address from creation to God, since the year is a plant's lifespan. The book achieves in every line that most difficult of poetic tasks, to make the personal widely significant. With the medieval European lyric-poets, Gluck returns obsessively to the tragedy of the human in contrast to flowers: we don't bloom again. Like all large subjects, this sounds trite; the poems could not be less so, as would be evident from any quotation. The second of the seven "Matins" poems ends:
"We merely know it wasn't human nature to love
only what returns love".
A feature of 20th-century reaction to poetry on this side of the Atlantic is that we have been so late coming to an appreciation of the great American poets, especially women such as Bishop and Adrienne Rich. We are indebted to publishers like Anvil and Carcanet who have kept writers like Gluck in our sights. She is a poet of enormous importance and intelligence; we must not miss her.
Review: Imaginative storytelling returns with vigourfilm
Bannatyne leaves Dragon's DenTV
Arts & Ents blogs
- 1 Belgium fan Axelle Despiegelaere lands L'Oreal campaign after World Cup viral photo
- 2 Why I'm on the brink of burning my Israeli passport
- 3 Israel-Gaza conflict: ‘Sderot cinema’ image shows Israelis with popcorn and chairs 'cheering as missiles strike Palestinian targets'
- 4 Blackest is the new black: Scientists have developed a material so dark that you can't see it...
- 5 Iraq crisis: How Saudi Arabia helped Isis take over the north of the country
Sustained immigration has not harmed Britons' employment, say government advisers
War is war: Why I stand with Israel
Even when it brutalises one of its own teenage citizens, America is helpless against Israel
Socialist Worker called to apologise over ‘vile’ article saying Eton schoolboy Horatio Chapple's death is ‘reason to save the polar bears’
Emergency data law: David Cameron plots to bring back snoopers’ charter
NUT strike: David Cameron announces crackdown on strike action ahead of mass industrial action