Books 2010

Books 2009

« T S Eliot, publisher | Main | Women reading: December »

Friday, 27 November 2009

Comments

I am back, and in a more focused mood...
I just reread Hawk Roosting too. Both poems have a different point of view. Besides, this one is more prose than poetry (no proper rhymes), but it has indeniably even more thrust than Hawk Roosting, which is, comparatively, soothingly desperate. This one is not desperate despite the poignant end, but it is like each verse gives you a punch in the face. How Ted Hughes manages that, I don't know, but this is quite remarkable.

I went foraging around in older poems and now I am too tired to write a decent comment on this one. But yes, there is another poem by Hughes about an hawk; Hawk Roosting that was. You published it just one year ago day per day (28th November that is).

Too bad that this poem's title is not Hawks in the Rain, because then your last sentence would have been "What fierce, bloody, stubborn power there is in Ted Hughes' Hawks In The Rain" - what, Ted Hughes soaks in the rain!?
I am not sure if the whole sentence is perfectly correct grammatically, and if hawk and soak sound similarly - probably not in both cases.

My apologies to Ted Hughes. I'll come back and write another comment if you forgive me this...
Wishing you a nice weekend.

The comments to this entry are closed.

Quotidian

  • Nothing is of greater consolation to the author of a novel than the disovery of readings he had not conceived but which are then prompted by his readers. (Umberto Eco, Reflections on The Name of the Rose)
  • ... relatively few persons in London ... can afford the luxury of one or more servants. No fewer than 3,700,000 have no servants at all, and of the half million that have servants 227,000 have only one. (The Times, 6 June 1895)
  • Standing among savage scenery, the hotel offers stupendous revelations. There is a French widow in every bedroom, affording delightful prospects. (Tyrolean inn brochure, according to Gerard Hoffnung)
  • (A doctor is at an elderly relative's deathbed) "The old sawbones, eh?" he bellowed ... "Just in the nick, perhaps. Haul the old girl back by the short hairs, if you ask me. Devilish smart at his work ... Always take a fence with more confidence when I know he's out with us."
  • Too often, when a man of Monty Godkin's mental powers is plunged in thought, nothing happens at all. The machinery just whirs for a while, and that is the end of it. (P G Wodehouse, Heavy Weather)
  • ...the breed that take their pleasures as Saint Laurence took his grid (Kipling, The Five nations)

Photo Albums

Blog powered by Typepad