C.H.
Sisson’s "The Pattern" is a poem of thirty stanzas of four lines each, published
in 1993 by the Enitharmon Press of London as part of its Enitharmon Pamphlets
series. It’s a stark and elegant little book, set in 10-point Garamond Light with
a cover the color of vellum. The copy in my university library is fitted with a
tacky cardboard cover, but I understand. Otherwise, it would be filed away on a
restricted shelf and I would only be permitted to visit it, like an inmate in
prison. This copy is number 164 of the two-hundred printed.
Expressions
of futility, like suicide notes, tend to be brief. One doesn’t rhapsodize at
great length the stringency of existence. “The Pattern” is as grim a statement
of the vanity of human wishes as I know, yet oddly bracing because of Sisson’s
immunity to the blandishments of cant:
“The
days seem long now, and life is long
Although
the years hurry away to death;
No-one
can daunt time; the young and strong
Are
weak before it draws their dying breath.”
1 comment:
I'm guessing it's CH Sisson. Would be very interested to hear Sisson's views on Larkin.
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