There are poets who seem to promise much via the page; but one hears them
and realises that it was / is a mirage, however goodit may have been in
their heads. Others let themselves down in performance.
Just because someone lets themselves down in performance does not
invalidate performance in general.
For me, and I say it no more strongly than that, the written poem is a
score for or transcription of performance. At this late date it may not
seem so: poetry has come to so many of us as pages in a book.... But silent
reading is a relatively recent phenomenon
It may be that some performances block reception of some aspects of the
poem. So it goes. Chap started talking to me this morning and I responded
because he seemed open and well-intentioned, though I couldn't really make
out what he was saying; and I was some way into the conversation before I
fully realised our topic.
I may sometimes really wish that I could have grasped the full text of
something... but I do not accept there are any absolutes to be received
unsullied by earthly matters.
I'd dearly love to hear the voices of Housman and Flecker read some of
their poems – I could make a little list – not because they are “great” but
because they made poems, lines often, from which I have learned,
experiencing great pleasure, and would like to learn more.
Someone remarked tome recently how overwhelming they found the experience
of reading Bunting. Well, I heard the man read the man read several times –
in the same room as him – and that too was overwhelming. I value it; but I
am not sure how much I learned that I have applied successfully to my own
practice, apart from the bit about the waste paper basket! But nothing
directly from the hearing. That was the best, maybe, legal high I have
known; and that's all I can say
It might be that some including AEH and JEF read their rather dully and or
incompetently. We have been offered infamous examples of that already; but
that's the way it is. I'd rather have the information than the illusory hit.
I have written somewhere a line about hearing the words of Vergil as he
spoke them (forget please how poor my first century bce Latin is. to the
point where this desire is laughable) though I am unsure if I nicked it
from someone else – I think it may be a variation on Forster's “to see the
hills as Aelfred saw them” from 'The Machine stops' – and that reflects for
me the nature of poetry – a time-based art, with books at best ruins shored
against entropy
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