Arthur Rimbaud by Vincent Smith
Arthur Rimbaud was born in Charleville in 1954. He was a prodigy but also a bit of a delinquent, rude and undisciplined. One of his teachers made a prophetic statement – “he is intelligent but has eyes and a smile I do not like … he will end badly. He will be the genius of good or evil”. As a teenager he ran away to Paris on several occasions and tried unsuccessfully to get his poems published. Later he thought of sending copies to the established poet Paul Verlaine, who invited him to come to Paris to stay with him and his family. However, Rimbaud was so dirty, unkempt and rude that he upset everybody and was ordered out of the house. Verlaine was so besotted with the young genius that he went with him and they spent a period living together and having a homosexual relationship. They went to London and worked as French teachers, but Verlaine wanted to end the affair and one evening after a drunken quarrel he produced a pistol and fired two shots at Rimbaud. He was arrested and although Rimbaud was not seriously hurt, was imprisoned for two years.
Rimbaud took up with another writer, Germain Nouveau and in 1874 went with him to London. But Nouveau saw the danger to his own reputation of being associated with Rimbaud and he quickly ended their relationship.
Rimbaud gave up his literary pretensions and spent the rest of his life wandering around Europe and farther afield, doing largely unsavoury jobs. He worked as a mercenary in Java and a gun runner in Ethiopia, where, under the cover of a legitimate business he was also involved in the slave trade. In 1891 he developed what was almost certainly bone cancer and had an unpleasant last few months. He had a leg amputated but the cancer spread rapidly and he died in late 1891 at the age of 37. All his poetry had been written before the age of 21, yet he had an important influence on the direction poetry was to take.
One of his most famous poems is about vowels, in which he assigns a different colour to each one. Much has been written trying to analyse the meaning, but Rimbaud himself said it had none, that he was just experimenting with ideas and sounds. Here it is in the original, followed by a literal translation.
Both the original French and the English versions can be found here
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
Poets from around the World #2 - Thomas Hardy (Dorset , England)
We were also entertained with grand performances of poems. One of which was Thomas Hardy's The Ruined Maid. Unfortunately we have no recording of this but I have put some links below for you to look at.
The Ruined Maid by Thomas Hardy. Hardy was born in 1840 in Dorset and was a Novelist and poet. More information about him can be found here
The Ruined Maid by Thomas Hardy. Hardy was born in 1840 in Dorset and was a Novelist and poet. More information about him can be found here
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Poets from around the World #1 - Edgar Allan Poe (Boston, US)
Recently the Preston Poets were asked to give a talks on Poets of the World at the Brownedge Festival. This is the first of the poets for you to read about.
Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) by Gwen Weiss
Edgar Allan Poe was born in Massachusetts USA on 19th January 1809. He was the son of travelling actors David and Elizabeth Arnold Poe. His father, an alcoholic, deserted the family which included a brother and a sister, and his mother died when he was two years old, and Poe was fostered by a prosperous Scottish merchant, John Allan, in Richmond.
Allan always refused to adopt Poe which led to bad feeling between them. The family moved to Scotland for a time and also lived in England returning to America in 1820. He fell in love with Sarah Elmira Royston but lost touch with her when he was at university.
Despite considerable academic success, after one year at the University of Virginia, his gambling debts forced him to leave, and by 1827 Poe with typical restlessness had moved from Boston to Richmond and then back to Boston again. On learning that Sarah had married he joined the army by saying he was twenty two although he was only eighteen and gained a good reputation, which he joined in 1827, but spent a miserable year at the US Military academy at West Point in 1930 before being dishonourably discharged, which he had deliberately engineered and it was at this point John Allan washed his hands of him.
He stayed in Baltimore from 1831 – 35 and began writing more seriously, working as a journalist earning a bare minimum on which to survive and from 1835 he began to edit the Southern Literary Messenger, from which he was sacked for being drunk. He was involved with several magazines thereafter and in 1836 he secretly married his 13 year-old cousin Virginia, her age being recorded on the marriage certificate as twenty -one. He later married her again in a large public ceremony.
Around this time he turned to writing short stories which revealed a fascination with emotional extremes, particularly fear, though his essays show that he was capable of being objective and critical. His early fiction tales, starring the fictitious detective C. Auguste Dupin laid the groundwork for future detectives in literature and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle said of his work that ‘ Each (of Poe’s detective stories) is a root from which a whole literature has developed…where was the detective story until Poe breathed the breath of life into it?’ The Mystery Writers of America have named their awards for excellence in the genre as ‘the Edgars.’
He was also admired by Jules Verne and H,G. Wells for his science fiction work.
In 1844 he moved to New York but despite popular acclaim his life was still wretched and remained poor. Virginia died of tuberculosis in 1847 and Poe, still poor and an alcoholic died in Baltimore two years later aged just forty.
As well as admirers, it seems that he also made enemies because after his death a long obituary in the New York Tribune, signed by a man using the pen name Ludwig, stated ‘ Edgar Allen Poe is dead…This announcement will startle many, but few will be grieved by it.’. He was soon identified as a Rufus Wilmot Griswold, an editor, critic and anthologist who had borne a grudge against Poe since 1842, and he set out to destroy Poe’s reputation after his death. He wrote a biographical article ‘Memoir of an Author’ depicting Poe as a depraved , drunk, drug addled, madman and included letters purported to have been written by the author. This biography sold well but was denounced by people who knew the victim well, and was later proved to be made up of lies and the letters were forgeries.
Conversely his work was often criticised by such as Ralph Waldo Emmerson who said of his work ‘The Raven,’ a poem which made him a household name , “ I see nothing in it.”; Aldous Huxley wrote that Poe’s work ‘falls into vulgarity by being too poetical - the equivalent of wearing a diamond ring on every finger.’
Many of his poems are very long and personally I found them flowery and difficult to follow but I enjoyed his rather macabre short stories such as ‘Murder in the Rue Morgue,’ ‘The Pit and the Pendulum,’ and ‘The Purloined Letter, this last demonstrating his interest in ciphers.’
The Poem read on the evening was "To My Mother" and other poems can be found here along with more information here
Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) by Gwen Weiss
Edgar Allan Poe was born in Massachusetts USA on 19th January 1809. He was the son of travelling actors David and Elizabeth Arnold Poe. His father, an alcoholic, deserted the family which included a brother and a sister, and his mother died when he was two years old, and Poe was fostered by a prosperous Scottish merchant, John Allan, in Richmond.
Allan always refused to adopt Poe which led to bad feeling between them. The family moved to Scotland for a time and also lived in England returning to America in 1820. He fell in love with Sarah Elmira Royston but lost touch with her when he was at university.
Despite considerable academic success, after one year at the University of Virginia, his gambling debts forced him to leave, and by 1827 Poe with typical restlessness had moved from Boston to Richmond and then back to Boston again. On learning that Sarah had married he joined the army by saying he was twenty two although he was only eighteen and gained a good reputation, which he joined in 1827, but spent a miserable year at the US Military academy at West Point in 1930 before being dishonourably discharged, which he had deliberately engineered and it was at this point John Allan washed his hands of him.
He stayed in Baltimore from 1831 – 35 and began writing more seriously, working as a journalist earning a bare minimum on which to survive and from 1835 he began to edit the Southern Literary Messenger, from which he was sacked for being drunk. He was involved with several magazines thereafter and in 1836 he secretly married his 13 year-old cousin Virginia, her age being recorded on the marriage certificate as twenty -one. He later married her again in a large public ceremony.
Around this time he turned to writing short stories which revealed a fascination with emotional extremes, particularly fear, though his essays show that he was capable of being objective and critical. His early fiction tales, starring the fictitious detective C. Auguste Dupin laid the groundwork for future detectives in literature and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle said of his work that ‘ Each (of Poe’s detective stories) is a root from which a whole literature has developed…where was the detective story until Poe breathed the breath of life into it?’ The Mystery Writers of America have named their awards for excellence in the genre as ‘the Edgars.’
He was also admired by Jules Verne and H,G. Wells for his science fiction work.
In 1844 he moved to New York but despite popular acclaim his life was still wretched and remained poor. Virginia died of tuberculosis in 1847 and Poe, still poor and an alcoholic died in Baltimore two years later aged just forty.
As well as admirers, it seems that he also made enemies because after his death a long obituary in the New York Tribune, signed by a man using the pen name Ludwig, stated ‘ Edgar Allen Poe is dead…This announcement will startle many, but few will be grieved by it.’. He was soon identified as a Rufus Wilmot Griswold, an editor, critic and anthologist who had borne a grudge against Poe since 1842, and he set out to destroy Poe’s reputation after his death. He wrote a biographical article ‘Memoir of an Author’ depicting Poe as a depraved , drunk, drug addled, madman and included letters purported to have been written by the author. This biography sold well but was denounced by people who knew the victim well, and was later proved to be made up of lies and the letters were forgeries.
Conversely his work was often criticised by such as Ralph Waldo Emmerson who said of his work ‘The Raven,’ a poem which made him a household name , “ I see nothing in it.”; Aldous Huxley wrote that Poe’s work ‘falls into vulgarity by being too poetical - the equivalent of wearing a diamond ring on every finger.’
Many of his poems are very long and personally I found them flowery and difficult to follow but I enjoyed his rather macabre short stories such as ‘Murder in the Rue Morgue,’ ‘The Pit and the Pendulum,’ and ‘The Purloined Letter, this last demonstrating his interest in ciphers.’
The Poem read on the evening was "To My Mother" and other poems can be found here along with more information here
Thursday, 6 May 2010
East End
Irresistible forces compel me to go
through the smoke-filled places I used to know,
from the bridge where the Don and the Rother meet
to the Wicker Arches and Saville Street.
The Gates to Hell as I used to think,
where hopes would be vanquished and hearts would sink
as the tram approached from the city side:
a monument now to Civic Pride.
The Gates to Hell, but no longer so,
for the smoking chimneys and furnace glow,
the iron and steel and the shunting tracks,
the cobbled yards and the back-to-backs
are vanished, and only the names remain
of Attercliffe Common and Brightside Lane,
Berkley and Belmoor and Carltonville,
the wreck of a foundry, the tomb of a mill,
in cairns of rubble awaiting the day
when even they will be carted away,
and who knows what shimmering phoenix may spring
from the ashes where so many yesterdays cling.
But pasts more than mine in the ashes are strewn,
where wealth came too late and destruction too soon,
and my gratitude falls and my garlands are laid
on the riches their decades of labour have made.
Irresistible forces compel me to go
through the smoke-filled places I used to know,
from the bridge where the Don and the Rother meet
to the Wicker Arches and Saville Street.
The Gates to Hell as I used to think,
where hopes would be vanquished and hearts would sink
as the tram approached from the city side:
a monument now to Civic Pride.
The Gates to Hell, but no longer so,
for the smoking chimneys and furnace glow,
the iron and steel and the shunting tracks,
the cobbled yards and the back-to-backs
are vanished, and only the names remain
of Attercliffe Common and Brightside Lane,
Berkley and Belmoor and Carltonville,
the wreck of a foundry, the tomb of a mill,
in cairns of rubble awaiting the day
when even they will be carted away,
and who knows what shimmering phoenix may spring
from the ashes where so many yesterdays cling.
But pasts more than mine in the ashes are strewn,
where wealth came too late and destruction too soon,
and my gratitude falls and my garlands are laid
on the riches their decades of labour have made.
Friday, 2 April 2010
Why am I here?
Why am I here
they keep asking me
and I have asked myself
so many times
And I have asked myself
in many places
looking in each corner for the truth
but if there was any it had seemingly gone
I once tried looking in Valhalla
but it was snowed up
and it was definately closed
what can that tell me about life?
Another time viewing beauty
in all the scenic landscapes
but the loveliness soon escaped me
fading like a dreamlike memory
And yet again trying to find "the zone" in cities
with the bustling busy backstreets
which are full of tourist facts and figures
the only meaning told through friendly faces
I thought maybe I was here to spend all my money
I tried that once
buying ice lollipops in the snow
but still hang onto 5 EEKs in my wallet
Maybe I am here to keep a promise
Something that would hold me duty bound
but even a this has no meaning
without a currency behind it
Finally it occured it was a subconcious thought
the mallard duck's wing flashing
its colours of here and now
but surely one would be foolish chasing birds?
So why am i here?
A friend asks just before I leave
If I had done everything I wanted
and Yes.
I saw you again.
by Ian (mallard in helsinki)
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
The Poets Laurete
Twenty poets have held the post of Laureate
Since John Dryden was the first to have the honour
Bestowed way back in sixteen sixty eight
Thomas Shadwell came next, a political choice
Chosen to give the Protestants a voice.
Not much of a thought provoker
His work was mainly mediocre.
(not helped by the fact he was a prolific opium smoker)
Tate was next, he was fairly bright
Remembered mainly for his carol about ‘Shepherds watching
their flocks by night’.
With the arrival of Nicholas Rowe the post changed somehow
Less political now was the aim
More to raise the profile of the ruling sovereign
Laurence Eusden and Colly Cibber did the minimum required
At best it was said their work was uninspired
Whitehead, Wharton and Henry James Pye each graced the office
But sadly to say didn’t live up to their promise.
Robert Southey stepped in when Sir Walter Scott declined
And for thirty years did the job he was assigned
William Wordsworth the oldest accepted under duress
After all, at 73 he could do without the stress
Alfred Lord Tennyson, well what can you say,
His biggest success we still quote from today.
Hugely popular a great impact was made
Remember from school ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’
To Austin and Bridges we don’t give much thought
Nothing of significance to say or report.
John Masefield, now here’s an achiever
Mostly renowned for his popular ‘Sea Fever’
Cecil Day Lewis embraced the post and was quite enthusiastic
His works tended towards the melancholy or romantic.
Sir John Betjeman, accessible and humorous
His ‘Bombs on Slough’ appealed to the masses.
Ted Hughes, Yorkshire born, brooding, introspective
Often misunderstood, but generally respected.
Andrew Motion, first Poet Laureate to retire or be retired,
(not counting John Dryden who was fired)
Brought a breath of fresh air to a post he was unsure of at first
Forward thinking, promoted poetry among the young, tried to create a thirst.
Carol Ann Duffy, the first woman Poet Laureate in history, takes up the post
for ten years.
She’s claiming her sherry, so it’s bottoms up, cheers.
So folks, a new face – watch this space.
Joan Yates
Since John Dryden was the first to have the honour
Bestowed way back in sixteen sixty eight
Thomas Shadwell came next, a political choice
Chosen to give the Protestants a voice.
Not much of a thought provoker
His work was mainly mediocre.
(not helped by the fact he was a prolific opium smoker)
Tate was next, he was fairly bright
Remembered mainly for his carol about ‘Shepherds watching
their flocks by night’.
With the arrival of Nicholas Rowe the post changed somehow
Less political now was the aim
More to raise the profile of the ruling sovereign
Laurence Eusden and Colly Cibber did the minimum required
At best it was said their work was uninspired
Whitehead, Wharton and Henry James Pye each graced the office
But sadly to say didn’t live up to their promise.
Robert Southey stepped in when Sir Walter Scott declined
And for thirty years did the job he was assigned
William Wordsworth the oldest accepted under duress
After all, at 73 he could do without the stress
Alfred Lord Tennyson, well what can you say,
His biggest success we still quote from today.
Hugely popular a great impact was made
Remember from school ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’
To Austin and Bridges we don’t give much thought
Nothing of significance to say or report.
John Masefield, now here’s an achiever
Mostly renowned for his popular ‘Sea Fever’
Cecil Day Lewis embraced the post and was quite enthusiastic
His works tended towards the melancholy or romantic.
Sir John Betjeman, accessible and humorous
His ‘Bombs on Slough’ appealed to the masses.
Ted Hughes, Yorkshire born, brooding, introspective
Often misunderstood, but generally respected.
Andrew Motion, first Poet Laureate to retire or be retired,
(not counting John Dryden who was fired)
Brought a breath of fresh air to a post he was unsure of at first
Forward thinking, promoted poetry among the young, tried to create a thirst.
Carol Ann Duffy, the first woman Poet Laureate in history, takes up the post
for ten years.
She’s claiming her sherry, so it’s bottoms up, cheers.
So folks, a new face – watch this space.
Joan Yates
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Prince Charles Is Now 60
Prince Charles has been around for a while
Bringing to many people in this country a smile
It’s his 60th birthday today
At which we all say hip hip hurray
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
He with the Princes Trust awards came out
Helping change young people’s lives no doubt
Also giving a lot of business and charity support
Showing to many a nice kind thought
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
Prince Charles loves time at the Highgrove home
Where he does farming, with others or on his own
He’s interested in Architecture too
As are also quite a few
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
From all of Prince Charles we have seen
He’s fully worthy of successing the Queen
But not knowing what the future has to tell
We’re still sure for him everything will go well
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
Paul Wilkins
Bringing to many people in this country a smile
It’s his 60th birthday today
At which we all say hip hip hurray
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
He with the Princes Trust awards came out
Helping change young people’s lives no doubt
Also giving a lot of business and charity support
Showing to many a nice kind thought
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
Prince Charles loves time at the Highgrove home
Where he does farming, with others or on his own
He’s interested in Architecture too
As are also quite a few
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
From all of Prince Charles we have seen
He’s fully worthy of successing the Queen
But not knowing what the future has to tell
We’re still sure for him everything will go well
He’s going to have an influence on the future of Britain forever
Continually bringing people together
Paul Wilkins
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