“I know who you are!” said a voice behind me in a bookshop. It reminded me of the Poetry International years ago - 1972? - when I had to squeeze between Auden & Spender to get a drink at the bar. A voice behind me: “Aren’t you John Haffenden!” WHA’s & SS’s faces were a picture!
#OTD in 1916 one of many attacks on High Wood on the Somme took place. Among the wounded that day was war poet Robert Graves, who nearly died. The fighting here in 1916 witnessed Cavalry, flame throwers, mines and finally Tanks: and cost both sides heavy losses.
My new book of essays is out from CB Editions and can be ordered here https://t.co/W0Np6B2Coe
It's about trains, stations open and closed, lots of things that come with the prefix '-post', about haunted art and sidelined towns, old factories and forgotten poets. Etc
The writer and war poet Siegfried Sassoon was born #OTD 1886.
'If I were fierce, and bald, and short of breath
I'd live with scarlet Majors at the Base,
And speed glum heroes up the line to death.
You'd see me with my puffy petulant face,
Guzzling and gulping in the best hotel,
Reading the Roll of Honour. `Poor young chap,'
I'd say. `I used to know his father well;
Yes, we've lost heavily in this last scrap.'
And when the war is done, and youth stone dead,
I'd toddle safely home and die in bed.'
'Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red', an installation by Paul Cummins and Tom Piper at the Tower of London, November 2014, the City of London beyond.
8 September 1886. Siegfried Sassoon was born in Matfield, Kent. Decorated for bravery on the Western Front, he became one of the leading poets of the First World War. His poetry described the horrors of the trenches and satirised jingoism.
“Oh yes, I know the way to heaven was easy.
We found the little kingdom of our passion
That all can share who walk the road of lovers.
In wild and secret happiness we stumbled;
and gods and demons clamoured in our senses.”
Siegfried #Sassoon, born 8 September 1886
Siegfried Sassoon, born Matfield, Kent #OTD 8 September 1886, wrote some of the most ascerbic poems about his experiences of WWI, and afterwards.
'I saw the Prince of Darkness, with his staff,
Standing bare-headed by the Cenotaph:
Unostentatious and respectful, there
He stood, and offered up the following prayer.
'Make them forget, O Lord, what this Memorial
Means; their discredited ideas revive;
Breed new belief that War is purgatorial
Proof of the pride and power of being alive;
Men's biologic urge to readjust
The Map of Europe, Lord of Hosts, increase;
Lift up their hearts in large destructive lust;
And crown their heads with blind vindictive Peace.'
The Prince of Darkness to the Cenotaph
Bowed. As he walked away I heard him laugh. '
The Tottington war memorial, Norfolk. Originally set inside what is now the Army's battle training area, it's been reset just outside the zone on the road between Thompson and Merton.
Dilluns 21 de juliol, a les 19 h CLUB DE LECTURA TRADUCTORS «Breus històries mallorquines» de Robert Graves. Traducció de Nofre Moya Sureda Llibreria Documenta, Barcelona
https://t.co/KcPmo6iKKy
https://t.co/PZ2eUJm7YP
“Sylvia Plath, Robert Graves and me: Ruth Fainlight’s life in verse” by Helen Bain, whose novel about Sylvia Plath’s life in Devon will be published by Bloomsbury & Scribner in 2026
https://t.co/IIZWnTJPyz
#SylviaPlath#RuthFainlight
“Second hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack.”
Virginia Woolf, born 25th January 1882
Sharing this for the winter solstice: sunrise at Beverley Minster, a moment of quiet wonder captured on a past visit. Beverley’s very own henge of light and shadow. 🌅 #WinterSolstice2024