I’m
a friend to any admiring reader of William Cowper:
“Miltonic
in its prosody and diction, the poem [“Yardley Oak”] shows what a gift Cowper
had for exact, animated description. No less vivid, sensuous, and detailed is
the opening of Book V in The Task (`The Winter Morning Walk’). Even then, freighting every line with sublimity here
need not deter a reader today or make us forget how impish Cowper’s strange
intelligence could also be . . .”
The
admirer here is the late Christopher Middleton, introducing “Yardley Oak” in Poets on Poets (eds. Nick Rennison and
Michael Schmidt), published by Carcanet in 1997. The notion of poets choosing favorite
poems from the past and writing about them is not new. When young, I repeatedly
borrowed Oscar Williams’ Master Poems of
the English Language (Trident Press, 1966) from the library. In it, John
Berryman’s essay on “The Darkling Thrush” introduced me to Hardy the poet after
I had already lost interest in Hardy the novelist. Anthologies are night
school, the autodidact’s best friends. Long before college and before anyone
with learning or taste could guide me, Williams walked me through English and American
poetry. Thanks to him I took an early shine to Thomas Wyatt and Karl Shapiro, a
beautifully mismatched pair.
Some
of the selections from Poets on Poets
have been posted online, including Wendy Cope on A.E. Housman, Fergus Allen on Fulke Greville and Clive Wilmer on Samuel Johnson. Some pairings seem unlikely
but prove inspired. This is from Christopher Logue’s introduction to John
Dryden: “Satirist, pedagogue, playright, proselyte, pornographer (mild),
occasional plaigiary, songwriter, literary critic (our first), expert in three
types of translation (including English to English), always, and above all, the
master poet of his age, John Dryden (1631-1700), by today’s standards, is worth
at least three or four Nobel Prizes for Literature.” All true. Of course, Logue was himself a sui generis translator (see the definitive War Music: An Account of Homer's Iliad: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2016). Robert Wells on Thomas Gray and his “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” makes the familiar old warhorse new:
“The
`Elegy’ is many poems in one. I admire the way that it unfolds and surprises
itself. The strong wayward current of its rhetoric is exploratory. Just over
half-way through (with the stanza `Yet ev’n these bones . . .’) Gray veers away
from the conclusion he had originally planned, and re-enters his subject, to
discover the unwritten poem standing at the edge of the one he has been
writing, a preoccupation at variance with his conscious theme.”
C.H.
Sisson, author of “A Letter to John Donne,” writes of his chosen poet: “Any
selection from John Donne (c.
1572-1631) must be inadequate, and the object in making one can only be to
tempt the reader to a more extensive exploration of his work. The selector can
do no more than choose poems which speak out vividly one of the most forthright
and at the same time most subtle minds of the seventeenth century in England.
The man who became a famous preacher, as Dean of Saint Paul’s, had been also an
exponent of the pleasures of physical nakedness.”
Sisson
judges “A Hymn to Christ, at the Author’s Last Going Into Germany” to be “the
best of [Donne’s] religious poems,” and singles out this phrase from the third
stanza: “The amorousness of an harmonious soul.”
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