Books 2010

Books 2009

« Dance: HSH | Main | The River Merchant's Wife »

Thursday, 07 February 2008


Prynne is a rich but elusive poet. He's completely different to most British poets of the 20th and 21st century - but don't be put off. He makes words work in very unexpected ways, and it encourages you to read in radically different ways.

Here's a lovely piece from nice poetry chaps from Australia about Prynne:

Saw a picture of Rum Doodle (mountain in Antarctica) yesterday taken by one of my colleagues when he was younger and working there as a physicist. Looked very beautiful but rather cold for cats. Thank you very much for the offer of "They Came Like Swallows", cats rarely give up and finally I tracked down a copy at the Heath Public Library in Hampstead and I have nearly finished reading it.

To Glo - so sorry I am not cute and furry in reality, but please continue with the game! Have you read "Jennie" by Paul Gallico? A children's book but probably the best writing about cats (and how it might be to be a human turned into a cat) I have ever come across. Very realistic, not sentimental, will make you laugh and cry.

Dark Puss

A Viking raid? Really? Did they let you in? I know it was Carnival but huh?

I'd be very interested to hear what you think of the Prynne because I read what I think must be the same review and was similarly impressed.

The comments to this entry are closed.


  • 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