"This was a favorite phrase of mine from the poet A.E. Housman, and I was always determined to write a lyric around it, without paying much attention to what his message was, really.”
The
unexpected speaker here is Doc Pomus, né
Jerome Solon Felder (1925-91), the prolific songwriter whose credits include “This
Magic Moment,” “Save the Last Dance for Me,” “Viva Las Vegas,” “Why Must I Be a
Teenager in Love” and “Little Sister.” The song he adapted from Housman’s line
and co-wrote with Mac Rebennack (Dr. John) was “A World I Never Made,” recorded
by B.B. King and Johnny Adams. Pomus lifts the line from XII in Housman’s Last Poems (1922): “I, a stranger and
afraid / In a world I never made.”
Larkin
called Housman the “poet of unhappiness,” though his true nature as a poet was
more nuanced than that. Housman’s dramatized stance of solitude owes something
to his homosexuality. By nature, Housman was stoical. He worked hard to remain
unruffled. That he felt things deeply is apparent to anyone reading A Shropshire Lad (1896). Housman wrote
and collected the verses in Last Poems
after learning that Moses Jackson, whom he had loved unrequitedly since
university days, was dying. Larkin writes:
“To be more
unhappy than unfortunate suggests some jamming of the emotions whereby they are
forced to re-enact the same situation even though it no longer exists, but for
Housman it did still exist. If unhappiness was the key to poetry, the key to
unhappiness was Moses Jackson. It would be tempting to call this neurosis, but
there is a shorter word. For as Housman himself said, anyone who thinks he has
loved more than one person has simply never really loved at all."
XII, usually
identified by its first line, “The laws of God, the laws of man,” is by
Housman’s customary standards heavy-handed. The line Pomus chooses to adapt is
evocative but much of the poem comes off like a second cousin to Henley’s
“Invictus” or third-tier Kipling. In the passage at the top, Peter Guralnick is
quoting Pomus in “Call the Doctor: The Further Adventures of Doc Pomus, Part 1,”
collected in Looking to Get Lost:
Adventures in Music and Writing (Little, Brown and Co., 2020). Pomus goes
on about the line he took from Housman’s poem:
“[L]et me
tell you something, to Dr. John I think it meant something different. You see,
there’s two ways of approaching that thing. One way it just means you had
nothing to do with the making of the world, right? And the other approach is,
‘It’s a world I never understood.’ Which is a subtle difference.”
[James T.
Farrell titled his 1938 novel A World I
Never Made and Bob Dylan dedicated The
Philosophy of Modern Song (2022) to Doc Pomus. Larkin’s “All Right When You
Knew Him,” a review of Richard Perceval Graves’ A.E. Housman: The Scholar-Poet (1979), is collected in Required Writing: Miscellaneous Pieces
1955-1982 (1983).]
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