Mick Imlah (1956-2009)

Others have already said it much better than I could, but it's desperately sad to hear of the death of Mick Imlah at the age of 52. He'd been suffering from Motor Neurone disease for some time.

Last year's collection The Lost Leader had attracted all sorts of critical plaudits, but he had spent much of the 20 years between it and his debut collection as a literary journalist and editor, most notably editing Poetry Review and, later, the Times Literary Supplement. Never high profile, but working quietly and selflessly to promote the work of other poets.

He was one of the nominees for the TS Eliot Prize, the winner of which was announced last night. What's happened really puts prizes in perspective, of course, but I suspect he'd have been pleased that the judges plumped for a younger poet, Jen Hadfield, whose Nigh-No-Place is really superb.

Not exactly breaking news, but...

Still a bit bleary-eyed after getting back from London in the middle of the night, having been to the Forward Prize announcement. Not the best of journeys, but even the vagaries of Britain’s railway system couldn’t ruin a really enjoyable day.

You may well have seen by now that Mick Imlah took the Best Collection Prize for The Lost Leader – I’ve only skimmed it so far, but will be taking it with me when I’m away next week for a proper read. I don’t think there’ll be too much argument – from what I’ve read so far, it looks like a worthy winner. It’s terrible to read of his illness, though.

Best First Collection went to Kathryn Simmonds, for her Sunday At The Skin Launderette. That might have qualified as something of a surprise, because I’d guess that most people’s money was on Frances Leviston, but I think this would have been the closest category of all. Anyway, Kathryn’s book was my favourite of those I’ve read, so I was pleased by her win.

Best Individual Poem was won by Don Paterson’s Love Poem For Natalie ‘Tusja’ Beridze. I think Roddy Lumsden hit the nail on the head by describing it as a ‘Marmite poem’ – most readers will either love it or hate it. I’m not a big fan myself, and would like to have seen Tim Turnbull’s Ode On A Grayson Perry Urn win, but never mind.

Anyway, it was good to finally meet Roddy in person, and to chat with some of the judges, publishers and other poets. Congratulations to all the winners and shortlisted poets.

Poetry in the papers

It’s Monday, so it must be time to recap on the weekend's reading. The Guardian had a great double-page spread on Sharon Olds. She gets, unfairly I think, less attention than she deserves over here, probably because confessional poetry isn’t particularly fashionable or popular, but I think she proves that it’s the quality of the poetry, rather than the style, that’s what matters.

In the Telegraph, meanwhile, Nick Laird was reviewing Mick Imlah, Bernard O'Donoghue and Adam Foulds. I can't say the latter's book appeals to me a great deal, but the other two do. O'Donoghue in particular is another poet who too often seems to slip below the radar.

Worth the wait

I was interested to read this review in yesterday's Observer (there was another in Saturday's Guardian). Firstly, because it sounds like a book worth reading. Secondly, though, because of what it says about Mick Imlah not having released a full collection for 20 years.

Of course, that doesn't mean that he's not been busy, what with chapbooks, editing for magazines and anthologies, and so on. But it is a hell of a long time, making Imlah something of a poetry equivalent of The Blue Nile or My Bloody Valentine (not that it did them any harm). Does anyone know of a longer hiatus between full collections?