Armitage and My Tuppence

On the evening that Simon Armitage has been announced as the new UK poet laureate, my Twitter feed has been interesting on the subject – this feed [my following] predominantly to do with poetry from poets/writers to poetry magazine, online and book publishers and then to the retweeted items on poetry from all of these.

In most cases the response to the announcement has been gracious, though at the time of writing [and I will be positing this tomorrow at the earliest, so may be making amendments] the main graciousness has been from poetry publishers. But I have read responses from individual poets whose work I like and respect being gracious, and I have read a response from one other who I like and respect who wasn’t. This latter did make me laugh and I also agreed.

I have been generally ambivalent on such an appointment and the ‘institution’ of the laureateship itself in as much as on this blog I did state a poet preference for the job, which hasn’t been realised, obviously, but I have also expressed my complete agreement with the personal argument by Benjamin Zephaniah against ever accepting such an appointment were it offered.

I’m merely throwing my tuppence into the tote of afterthoughts on Armitage’s appointment because I have a couple. In the Guardian response this evening, soon after the announcement, it quotes the poet Sean O’Brien as saying Armitage was “the first poet of serious artistic intent since Philip Larkin to have achieved popularity” and this was the start of the ‘interesting’ things I read.

The assertion of ‘popularity’ is of interest here because for me this would actually be that of those people already reading and following poetry. I can readily see how Armitage will have engaged this existing, engaged readership to take on board his largely written [as in not performance] poetry and Faber published-to-boot promotion of that. And there’s nothing wrong with this. But it wouldn’t be my definition of popularising poetry.

Like a lot of English teachers – thousands – I came across Simon Armitage through his GCSE English anthologised poetry, as have GCSE English students – hundreds of thousands – by the same route. This is a significant audience generated by the poetry of Armitage. But I don’t think we can say this is because it was popular!

In my many years as a GCSE English Literature examiner I have read thousands of student responses to various poems of Simon Armitage and in most cases these have been informed and knowing because students have been taught well by teachers to be informed and knowing. I couldn’t characterise such in the hitherto same generalised, but totally honest way, as enthused or enthused by a ‘popular’ sense of the poems speaking to the students. But this is, of course, as much to do with the consequences of being taught poetry for examinations and being driven to ‘succeed’ in these responses as it is with enjoying them. Clearly more with the former, and obviously so.

I have no doubt Armitage will take this national post very seriously and will fulfil his commitment to reflect on national but also Royal events/occasions with an integrity which may not be poetically memorable – not that it won’t be. He will work to conventions of poetics with which those who are already engaged in poetry will read with interest and enjoyment. There will be some sense, in many if not most cases, that a poetic tradition is being sustained with the integrity I have acknowledge Armitage will apply.

That said, Armitage did some months ago in the Guardian make what I thought to be rather pedantic and even pompous assertions about how he felt the role of the poet laureate should be and I was critical at the time on this blog of those. I trust he won’t put into practice some of these ‘inclinations’ when he does get down to target writing for the ostensible role of the position: to engage with everyone. He is also reported in yesterday’s Telegraph as stating derogatory [and I think childish] observations about poets like Benjamin Zephaniah’s principled objection to any possibility of accepting the UK poet laureateship:

 “I think it’s sometimes a human defence mechanism to say you don’t want something you’re not going to be offered. Get you retaliation in early,” Armitage said.

With the overwhelmingly gracious acknowledgements of his new position [this morning’s tweets in my feed seem to continue with such] I trust Armitage will return the good manners and apologise for his comments as reported in the Telegraph. Or deny them.

Beauty Alone at Eunoia

eunoia image

Most pleased to have the first of three found prose poems here today. Thank you Ian.

NB [This is later in the day]: Having written the poem posted a little while ago, and having taught and examined the book ‘Of Mice and Men’ for many, many years, I have just read the poem in situ and realised [appalling, embarrassing moment] that it should read ‘Curley’s wife’, not ‘Candy’!! How the hell did I make that mistake – and not see it?? Anyway, have asked editor Ian to change if he can.

Mea culpa!!!

NB [later again]: It has been changed. I could erase all of the above, but won’t! Perhaps it will remind me to pay attention…

Nebraska 28: ‘Nebraska’ by Michael Dumanis

I could play the accordion
so I was selected for the amateur propaganda team.
It was very cold. I had to stop up the hole in my shoe.
I used the lid of a tin can.

As far as I can tell, there’s nothing
trustworthy about my experience of reality.
I stand on one leg. I stand on the other leg.
I rotate my arms clockwise

and call this exercise. In the home movie
I recognize my coat. Taking my turn
with the mechanical bull at Uncle Ron’s
Wild West Saloon I hold on for as long as a minute.

So little happens on a given day,
which is why I play the accordion
until I am riddled with someone’s applause,
which is why I drive to Arthur County to see

the hay bale church and the world’s smallest courthouse.
If I was a blue jay or some kind of robin
I would fly figure-eights over the cottonwoods.
Despite the wind, I would not curse the wind.

The future is a rumor like the past.
The new anxiety supplants the old anxiety.
The continent I stand my ground on drifts,
which is why I have asked you to marry me.

I am solid gold, I say, and I am capable
of loving you until the final asteroid
hides Omaha under an ocean of ash,
but you’re unavailable.

They were on their way to the ocean
when they made their minds up to stay here.
The grass was so tall they picked wildflowers
without stepping down from their horses.

We are all so lucky. It is terrifying.
It is a blue sky day for all the freezingness.
I blink into the chasm of sunlight endlessly.
I forget my life, but then I remember my life.

Copyright © 2016 Michael Dumanis

Returning to my Nebraska theme having come across this poem – I love the lines until I am riddled with someone’s applause and loving you until the final asteroid / hides Omaha under an ocean of ash.

And learning: I have never been to Arthur – in my childhood of growing up in Omaha, Nebraska – so was unaware of the Pilgrim Holiness Church [constructed originally of hay bales, as, apparently, were around 70 properties in the Sandhills region between 1896-1945]

Arthur Pilgrim Holiness Churh - Copy

Nor was I aware of its other claim to architectural specialty, the First Arthur County Courthouse and Jail, built in 1914 and 1915, the world’s smallest, allegedly

Arthur, Nebraska - Copy

 

Plagued BBC News

It has been so far an ‘interesting’ BBC TV news analysis of the alleged parity between Conservative and Labour council losses, whether as number of seats and/or overall control. I am referring to both the lunchtime and 6pm news today. The 10pm one will be fascinating as I look for further evidence of what I am going to now outline.

The lunchtime news went with Norman Smith’s flamboyant summary of a voting public saying to the main parties ‘a plague on both your houses’.

Really?

There is no question whatsoever there is widespread public dissatisfaction with parliament’s handling [!] of Brexit, and both parties have their relative shares in the indecision and infighting and indelible loss of face.

But equally?

Who is the Prime Minister of the country?

Well, this was a telling ‘comparison’ of how similar the parties’ losses were:

In reporting the Chelmsford City Council move from Conservative to Liberal Democrat control, a graph was used that visually stated how the Conservatives lost 31 seats with the LDs gaining 26. Yes, this is significant.

In reporting the Wirral Council ending up with no overall control, the figures were presented as a Labour loss of 13%. That’s an interesting editorial decision in illustrating what had been claimed as a parity of losses and with a ‘plague on both your houses’ literary reference in support! As Labour were the ruling party before the vote by 1 seat, in losing 3 – 2 to the Conservatives and 1 to the Greens – this was presented as similar…

31 seats loss / a shift of 13%. The later equating to 3 seats. Parity? Mathematical shenanigans? Fake news? Misrepresentation? Bias?

Let’s be clear: both parties suffered because of Brexit. But on an equal footing?

At the time of writing this, these were the comparative Conservative and Labour losses of seats reported by the BBC:

Conservatives – 1,132

Labour – 100

Parity?

I think a plague on your reporting BBC.

NB. 10pm BBC News: Still essentially touting the ‘parity’ line – stating the Conservatives hemorrhaged seats, which as language at least acknowledges the colossal impact, and yet stating that Labour suffered losses too, quite implicitly suggesting this is similar. Of course it is suggesting this. If the BBC was being honest and factual it would state that Labour losses were significantly less – see below – and they could still maintain a view that this reflects voter dissatisfaction with both parties [but massively more for one!]:

Conservatives – 1,334

Labour – 82