Speaking of anthologies, I again picked up Books and Libraries (2021), published as part of the Everyman's Library Pocket Poets Series. I’ve browsed in several of these attractively compact volumes and they are a very mixed bag, as any thematic anthology must be. You can sense the editor scrambling to be broadly representative, to fill out the selection by padding with shoddy goods alongside the good stuff. The editor of this anthology, Andrew Scrimgeour, has dug up some poems and poets previously unknown to me, including “Bookshop Stopping” by Frank Osen. The subtitle is “After Philip Larkin’s ‘Church Going,’” and Osen’s poem is laced with Larkin allusions, as in the third stanza:
“Old fools
with fragile jackets, broken spines.
A few no
doubt, unhinged, climb up the walls,
Intrigued,
though, by some well-worn pickup lines—
A browser in
a web till evening falls—
I read, enraptured,
near a narrow aisle
And build my
own small reverential pile.”
Joe Lucia’s “The
Afterlife of Libraries” is bitter eulogy for the passing of books in the
digital age. It concludes:
“. . . hints that the old
collections persist
somewhere and
foam up into being again here,
“breaking
through the welter of digital distractions,
giving hope
to those who remember the weight of pages
and the
contract with the future of a few strong words
“emblazoned
on all the various and durable spines.”
Knowing Lucia
is dean of libraries at Temple University adds an additonal level of piquancy to his
poem. The English poet Michael Symmons Roberts’ “The Future of Books” is
another bookish lament:
“Or this:
some sci-fi aeon where a drill
draws out a
deep core sample,
a
candy-stick of sands and clays,
each
civilisation -- the gist of all its stories -
packed into
a slab of sediment.
Our slice
has its own distinctive shade and scent
-
paper-musk, the dark behind the bookshelves -
but it is so
mystifies our future selves
they fry it
like black pudding, a salt and bitter
jus of
atlas, sonnet, gossip, scripture.
Text is long
gone, cut loose in virtual vaults
with mislaid
passcodes. Think of bottles
on a
cyber-tide, never breaking shore,
bearing love letters to strangers.”
All three poems are in a chapter titled "Rethinking Books and Reads."
2 comments:
Reading Elizabeth Hardwick's 1953 essay, "Memoirs, Conversations, and Diaries" (collected in "The Collected Essays of Elizabeth Hardwick," New York Review Books, 2017), I got a good laugh at this line:
". . .Boswell, 'buttering up' Dr. Johnson, hanging about his coattails like an insurance salesman after a policy. . ."
She loved Johnson but, except for the biography, didn't have much use for Boswell. That's probably a pretty common opinion.
Just bought L.E. Sissman's Hello Darkness, a tenner 2nd-hand, next cheapest is £30; mine is ex-University of Bradford, still has the usual library additions from which I see it was taken out twice (in 1984 and in 1990) before being presumably sold.
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