Pearls, by Helena Nelson

Over at Rogue Strands, Matthew Stewart has posted this very well argued review of Helena Nelson's Pearls (Happenstance Press). I haven't read it yet, but this does what all good reviews do and makes me want to go straight out and do exactly that.

For those who don't know, Helena is the driving force behind Happenstance, and I like, like a good many other poets, owe her a great deal. Happenstance published my first chapbook, Making The Most Of The Light, which I remain very proud of. Without it, and more importantly without Nell's encouragement and advice, I would never have had a full collection published. 

Cheltenham Festival

No, not that one. It's Cheltenham Poetry Festival I'm talking about. I'm just going to briefly remind you that I'm reading as part of it with American poet Chase Dimock on Monday, May 16th (you can book tickets here), but that there's also a great line-up of poets and events to browse through here.

Have your say (and an apology)

Thanks to Sue Ibrahim, I have realised that I have comment approval switched on for this blog. Not really because there was anything too controversial, or abusive, or potentially libellous getting posted – it was more down to the amount of spam.

Anyway, that means that I've discovered a backlog of unapproved comments, dating back to who knows when, and which I have now gone through carefully. As a consequence, you might well find that you get a notification of an old comment of yours being approved. Apologies to all of you who have wondered why on earth you'd been blocked.

The only other thing to say is that I'll be checking the blog every day now, so if you do want to post a comment, I promise to say yea or nay quickly.

Iamb - new poets

Just a reminder that iamb has new poets and poems appearing on a regular basis, as well as a great archive of writers. It's a beautifully designed website, too – easy on the eye and equally easy to navigate. I'll let you make your own minds up about your favourites, but there are a lot of really excellent poets there.

How we read and listen

This is a really fascinating and excellent response by Sue Ibrahim to some of the questions raised by that article about Larkin I posted about, and it's something that I've been thinking about a lot for a couple of days, mainly because I'm planning for my first readings in a long, long time.

I generally say a few words in introduction to each poem, but it is very hard to hit the right balance, I think. I'm very wary of leading the listener to approach a poem in a particular way, or giving them too much background information, but there are some where I think you need to give the listener/reader a way in.

I once saw a relatively well-known UK poet read (a writer whose work I like a lot), and their introductions started to become explicit instructions for understanding the poems, which rather ruined them for me. It was down, I think, to nervousness as much as anything else, but it's something to be avoided. Similarly, I haven't read a great deal about the lives of poets, or at least not until long after I've read their work.

Stanislav Petrov

I did say that I'd be avoiding the constantly alarming news, but it's not entirely possible. I've heard the word 'escalation' more in the last three weeks than I have since the early 1980s, and the context in which it's used is maybe even more chilling now than it was then, probably because although I was reasonably well-read about politics and world affairs at the time, I didn't appreciate exactly what was going on. 

Much more recently, I've read a few books about the Cold War tensions that almost resulted in disaster in 1983. With the relationship between the USA and the Soviet Union already strained, a computer malfunction almost convinced the Soviets that the Americans had launched a massive pre-emptive nuclear strike. 

Almost, I said. Fortunately, a man called Stanislav Petrov was responsible for interpreting the faulty early-warning readings, concluded that the Americans would be mad to attempt such an attack, and decided not to initiate a response. 

I hope there are plenty of Stanislav Petrovs still around. 

My poem about it, below, appears in my second collection, hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica, from Nine Arches Press, which is still available as an e-book.

Stanislav Petrov

The hardest part? How to stay alive

(inside the bunker, remember,

there are no days or nights)

to a sight you'll only see once,

the screens suddenly flowering

with tendrils of light, taking hold

of the world as we always imagined

they would. For some, perhaps,

the danger is a mind that wanders,

to football, or vodka, or the legs

of Comrade Ivanova.

For me, only a waking dream

of days awaiting autumn in Fryazino,

and my wife asking, what did you do today

Yevgrafovich? Answering her

as I always do. Nothing, I did nothing. 

The Vanishing Earth

I'm delighted to be reading alongside US poet Chase Dimock as part of this year's Cheltenham Poetry Festival, on May 16th. The online event, titled The Vanishing Earth, focuses on the natural world, and our interactions with it, and in particular the threat of extinction that so many species face.

In the weeks leading up to the reading, I'll be talking a bit more on here about those issues, about the background to some of the poems I'll read, and about Chase Dimock's poetry.

To start with, though, I'll just point out that there's also an open mic, and that you can book tickets here.

Larkin about

I'm not in the habit of reading The Spectator, but Twitter drew my attention to this article by Nicola Shulman, which certainly throws some interesting new light on the poetry of old Laughing Boy himself, Philip Larkin.

I'm a bit of an agnostic where Larkin's concerned. I did The Whitsun Weddings as part of A Level English Literature (I can only imagine what we'd have made of this piece of lit criticism at the time), and didn't enjoy it much, then warmed to it a little later on. I suppose, as with the vast majority of poets, there are poems of his that I like, and others that I don't like, and others again that I really don't have a strong opinion of. 

I'm back (again)

Yes, yes, I know. My promises to resume posting regularly here have been about as reliable as the Tory government's...no, I'm not going to go there. I have the urge to blog, and to write more generally, and I suspect one of the main reasons is the utter chaos out there at the moment. So, I'm going to restrict myself to talking about poetry, and literature more generally, and birds, and history, and maybe some cricket (although, there's not much about England that inspires me at the moment). I can't guarantee it will be upbeat, exactly, but it will definitely be more fun than the news.

Is the Ivory-billed Woodpecker extinct?

I've talked about this species before, both in the context of the search for it in the last 10 to 15 years, and with respect to a poem of mine that was, in part at least, inspired by it.

This article doesn't really take things any further, but makes the point that there are still ornithologists who hold out hope for it, and who would prefer it wasn't declared extinct (not least because if there's at least a chance of it still being alive, there's an additional reason to preserve certain habitats).

Ian ‘DIM’ Wallace, 1933-2021

There have been a lot of tributes online to the great Donald Ian Mackenzie Wallace (known to all as Ian or ‘DIM’ Wallace, after the signature he used on his artwork), who passed away in his sleep on November 4, aged 88, after more than half a century as one of the leading figures in British birdwatching.

Renowned as an artist, a writer (in Bird Watching Magazine, British Birds and countless books, including Birds of the Western Palearctic), he had a huge influence on just about anybody who has taken up a pair of binoculars in the last 50 years. 

First and foremost, though, he was a birdwatcher who knew the subject inside-out as a result of close observation in the field, and who was always happy to share his knowledge with great enthusiasm and passion.

I didn't know him well, but enjoyed bumping into him every year at Birdfair, when he would appear through the crowds in his kilt and tartan bonnet, then offer suggestions and ideas for Bird Watching Magazine. I'd come away from every encounter enthused and invigorated (and with a notebook full of useful information) – one of Ian's defining characteristics was his positivity (although always tempered by realism).

Probably the biggest influence he had on me, though, is through the book pictured above and below. When I was a kid, I had an earlier version of it, and although the artwork isn't his, he's listed as one of the authors. That figures – the text is packed with concise but memorable ID hints, and information on behaviour, but it's also full of quirky little snippets of folklore and history, and communicates a love of birds in very much the same way that Ian did. It remains my favourite field guide.

So, farewell and rest in peace, Ian. We're all the richer for your work, and for having known you.

 

Luke Kennard wins The Forward Prize

Good to see Luke Kennard winning this year's Forward Poetry Prize for his excellent Notes on the Sonnets, first and foremost because it's a great collection and just the latest in a line of superb books that he's written, but also because he's a thoroughly nice chap. Good for Penned in the Margins, too, for publishing it – it's heartening to see a small press winning. 

Lots to enjoy (and to catch up with) in the rest of the shortlists, too, and well done to Caleb Femi for winning Best First Collection. 

Clarity and obscurity

This is a very interesting blogpost, from Jeremy Wikely, about clarity and obscurity in poetry. I wouldn't say I have any answers to the questions raised, although I don't generally enjoy poetry that 'explains' itself too much. I do have several exceptions, having said that, so it's probably something to do with how skilfully it's done. 

Europe's bird extinction crisis

This, I'm afraid, is utterly depressing and terrifying in equal measure. I'm used, like any other birdwatcher, to reading about worrying declines in all sorts of species. Turtle Dove is one which has been much talked about (although to very little effect), and then there are the likes of Willow Tit, and Curlew. The former has disappeared from large parts of the UK, as has Willow Tit (with some small glimmers of hope in old industrial areas), while the speed of the latter's decline is alarming.

But the species being talked about here are absolutely everyday birds. Rook, for heaven's sake. Swift. If they too are starting to shrink back into ever-smaller breeding areas, where they raise ever-smaller numbers of young, then it's hard to avoid the conclusion that we have broken the natural world beyond repair.

It's all happening at Nine Arches Press

I'm not going to apologise for giving Nine Arches Press another plug. It's all going on over there at the moment. As well as Daniel Sluman's nomination for the TS Eliot Prize, Primers Volume 6 has been announced, featuring 10 new poets. And of course, there are years and years of great collections, anthologies and other books there to browse through. 

Brendan Kennelly, 1936-2021

Very sad to hear of the death of Irish poet Brendan Kennelly today. When I first started reading a lot of poetry, having drifted away from it a bit after university, I remember seeing and enjoying a lot of his work in anthologies. Maybe because of that, I was surprised in later years that he perhaps didn't always get the attention he deserved (in the UK, at least, I suspect things were different in Ireland). Time to find those anthologies, I think, and the collections of his that I have. 

Daniel Sluman on TS Eliot shortlist

Great news this week that Nine Arches Press poet Daniel Sluman is on the TS Eliot Prize shortlist for single window, a hybrid memoir of poetry and images. I've loved Dan's previous collections, Absence has a weight of its own, and the terrible, so I'm looking forward to having a good look at this one. He's a terrific poet, and the nomination is very well deserved

Dominic Couzens wins top award

It's always nice to be able to post about good news, and Dominic Couzens winning the British Trust for Ornithology's Dilys Breese Medal earlier this week is certainly that. 

It's awarded by the BTO every year, to someone who has championed and spread the word about their work, and who has encouraged people to take part in citizen science themselves.

Dom has certainly done that. He's an author, broadcaster and all-round naturalist, and also an all-round good guy and a pleasure to travel and go birdwatching with. I've been lucky enough to go on foreign trips with Dom over the years, and the thing that strikes you is just how much he notices. I know, I know, you'd think that all birders and naturalists would do that, and they do, but Dom takes it to a different level.

That comes out in his writing. Throughout the 15 years I've been at Bird Watching, he's written a feature in each issue, taking a close look at a particular species, always with the main focus on behaviour. Every issue, when the feature arrives by email and I read it through before it goes to the designer, I find myself amazed at how many new facts he has uncovered, even about very familiar garden species that you thought you knew really well. And yet, although the features are packed with research, they're written in such an engaging and accessible style that you can imagine anybody, even the most casual birdwatcher, being absolutely enthralled. 

Congratulations Dom!

Iamb Poetry

Yesterday was National Poetry Day, a fact which I have to admit had escaped my notice until it was too late to do anything about it. Busy week at work, and all that.

Mark Antony Owen, who has created the fantastic Iamb poetry website, very kindly tweeted a link to my appearance on the site last year – you can hear me read three poems (including Grail Birds, inspired by the Ivory-billed Woodpecker referenced earlier this week).

But take the time to have a browse through the whole site. It's a superb resource, an inspiration, and a reminder that however good it is on the page, poetry needs to be heard, too (or at the very least, it takes on a whole new dimension when it is heard). 

There are new poets being added there on a regular basis, too, so it's a site to bookmark and keep returning to.

Tony Greig

After reading that John Snow article the other day, I came across this fine piece from the same writer, James Mettyear, about his hero-worship of Tony Greig. Greig was a hero to a whole generation until his move to help set up World Series Cricket, but the years since have put that in a different perspective.

New at Nine Arches Press

Angela France's collection Terminarchy is one of Nine Arches' most recent publications, and it's a fine book that explores subjects such as climate change, among others. I've enjoyed Angela's past work, but this takes it on to another level, and I recommend it very highly.

There's plenty more to enjoy at the Nine Arches website, too – have a browse of the collections and anthologies on sale there, and don't forget Under The Radar magazine.

The Lord God bird

So, the Ivory-billed Woodpecker is officially no more, although I suspect that won't be the last word on it. Those like Tim Gallagher, who claim relatively recent sightings and who have led exhaustive searches for the bird, are unlikely to be convinced, and I'm far from sure that I am.

I was lucky enough to go on a birding trip with Tim a few years back, and in the evenings he talked to us about his sightings and his searches. Some of what he told us can be found in interviews such as this.

When I got back, I went straight out and bought his book The Grail Bird, and having found it enjoyable and fascinating in equal measure, bought Imperial Dreams, his book about the search for the Imperial Woodpecker (the world's largest) too. If anything, it's even better.

Whether the Ivory-bill is still out there somewhere, only time will tell, and probably a lot of time at that. But even if it does hang on in some swampy forest of the American South, it's future can't be bright.

The cricketing poet

To be fair, the title of this post is a bit of a cheat. John Snow, the former England fast bowler who's the subject of this article, was of course more of a cricketer who did a bit of poeting, but there you go – poetic licence and all that.

I was too young to see Snow at anything like his best - my memories are of seeing him in a test against the West Indies in 1976, and a few Sunday League games. But reading about his career, it strikes me that he is not given the credit he deserves. Beyond the bare statistics, he saved most of his best performances for the Aussies and the West Indies, and in 1970-71 he won the Ashes back for England with a performance that shaped a whole generation of Aussie cricketers, bizarrely – Ian Chappell consciously set out to create a team that played the way Ray Illingworth's did, with one or more John Snows dishing out the short stuff.

Anyway, it's a really excellent article. Take a look, and enjoy.

Back to the Anchor Church

At the end of the ITN News last night, there was an item about the Anchor Church at Ingleby, Derbyshire. The gist of it was pretty similar to this article, but they went rather more heavily on the 'discovery' that the caves were an Anglo-Saxon dwelling rather than belonging to the late medieval period.

I know the site pretty well. In my Nine Arches Press collection hydrodaktulopsychicharmonica, there's a poem called Dreams From The Anchor Church, at least partly inspired by it. I've been walking there quite a lot over the years. Memorably, about 10 years ago, I saw a Red-footed Falcon nearby, the only time I've ever seen the species in the UK.

I was a bit surprised by the TV piece, because I thought it had long been established that it was an Anglo-Saxon site. I remember talking about it as such when I was at university, in the late 80s/early 90s. I mentioned it to my lecturer (I suspect I had heard the local tradition that it was the home of an Anglo-Saxon saint), and she then pointed me in the direction of a book or possibly an article in a history journal that confirmed it. 

It's strange, then, how knowledge gets lost, and found, and lost again, and refound, because this appears to be a case where the local folk tradition preserved an accurate recollection of the past. And given the amount of early medieval remains in the area (a couple of cemeteries of the Viking 'Great Army', and an Anglo-Saxon crypt in nearby Repton church that holds a couple of Mercian kings), it's surprising that this one was ever ignored.

The link with the church at Breedon-on-the-Hill is interesting, too. It appears possible that some of the wall friezes there were taken from the sarcophagus of St Hardulph, to some the church is dedicated, and who is likely to have been one and the same as Eardwulf, King of Northumbria.

Michael Horowitz, 1935-2021

Very sad news this week of the death of Michael Horowitz, described here as a beat poet and a performance poet, but a whole lot more than that, given his untiring work to popularise any and all poetry.

I met him about 12 years ago, at the Forward Prize night, I think, and chatted for a while – he was charming and inspiringly enthusiastic (and wore an absolutely extraordinary 'peacock' jacket). It is, as the piece suggests, quite hard to get hold of his work in print, but he was very much a performer. He'll be very sadly missed.