Sunday, 13 September 2009

Back online

To those who have occasionally read my blog(s), I have been working hard on various writing and other projects over 2009. I have a superstitious fear of talking about unfinished projects, so I won't indulge in describing those unfinished projects here.

Actually, I suspect this is more than a superstition. Speaking for myself, I have always found it useful to distinguish between writing and talking about writing. It seems to me that, far from complementing one another, these processes tend to be mutually exclusive. Whenever I become serious about writing something, I begin the first stages of the writing process. If I'm not serious (and being serious or not serious is largely unconscious) then, considering my own behaviour in retrospect, I am much more likely to mention a particular writing project in conversation. For the most part, however, talking about writing simply seems to get in the way of the actual writing process, a diversion of that peculiar and sacred energy.

To those who are kind enough to occasionally ask my advice on how to begin writing, I usually say "If you want to write, the best advice I can offer from my own experience is to stop talking about it and start writing." An American writer, Mary Horton Vorse (1881-1966) wrote, more succinctly, "The art of writing is the art of applying the seat of the pants to the seat of the chair." When I was looking up the source of this saying on the net, I came across the following set of quotations on writing assembled by Mary Yerkes, which I can recommend as a short but succinct collection of views on writing mainly by other writers. The Mary Yerkes web-site has a Christian and self-help flavour, and I regard myself as a troubled atheist, but there are other little jewels on the writer's art. Another is "You can't wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club." (Jack London, 1876-1916).

On the subject of writing about writing, to what extent does a blogger owe it to his or her readers to at least keep up communications during a period when the urge to communicate is fallow, or when energies are directed in another direction? My mind says if blogging is a form of expression, when that desire to express is not present, the blogger should lie fallow. At the same time, I apologise to those two people and a cat who read my expostulations on line for my lengthy absence.

Wednesday, 31 December 2008

Happy New Year

This is just to wish all those who have read my publicpoems.com blog this year a happy New Year.

Obama takes over the presidency of the United States on the 20th January. Throughout his campaign this year, we have consistently stated our belief that Obama is the most intellectually gifted presidential candidate since the Enlightenment. It will be fascinating to see how his presidency progresses

Tuesday, 25 November 2008

Borges/di Giovanni - an exciting new development

Attention all Borges readers. Borges's great translator and collaborator Norman Thomas di Giovanni has recently posted up on his web-site his translation of Tlon, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius, one of Borges's finest fictional achievements. I can confirm that it reads beautifully. 

This blog discussed in previous posts the disgraceful situation in which the definitive Borges/di Giovanni translations, which were the result of a close, day-by-day collaboration between Borges and di Giovanni, are no longer available in bookshops due to the eccentric directions of Borges's widow Maria Kodama. Kodama has arranged for grossly inferior translations to be made through Andrew Hurley, translations which now constitute the "official" (i.e. approved by Kodama) version of Borges's work available in the English language. 

Before the great Borges/di Giovanni translations, Borges was known in the English language largely through a set of highly uneven translations by a wide variety of translators. Such translations were often agreed by Borges in his earlier years made as a means of getting rid of persistent people. This was precisely the situation which Borges later set out to resolve through definitive translations. Borges's close collaboration with di Giovanni, whom Borges invited to Buenos Aires, over four years from 1968-71, yielded English translations of such virtuosity that they established Borges's reputation as an international literary giant. They were more than translations; they were an opportunity for Borges to revise his life's writing, and constituted his last consistent literary effort. Borges himself described them as his definitive work. Since their replacement by the Hurley translations, an almost perfect reversal has taken place. In the English language at least, Borges is being transformed once more through Hurley's inferior translations from an international literary titan into a largely unknown and obscure Spanish master. Borges himself would have perceived the irony of his re-translation into obscurity through a second-rate translator. It is a fitting subject for one of his metaphysical fictions. Meanwhile, we can only regret that such irony appears to be beyond Borges's widow and her literary agent Andrew Wylie, otherwise known as The Jackal.

Sunday, 23 November 2008

THE SONNETS - again

It's strange, isn't it, how sometimes favourable reviews can disconcert more than unfavourable ones. John Self, the estimable denizen of the celebrated blog Asylum, has just written a characteristically insightful review of my recently published novel The Sonnets, which also happens to be highly favourable. In this respect at least I could hardly hope for more. However, in the comments beneath his article there follows (and this is the disconcerting part) a lengthy and to my mind absurd debate between his various readers on the subject of the cover of The Sonnets, which features a (to me at least) beautiful image of a seated woman. Several correspondents are disturbed because the image is "headless". Against this, one of the reasons I liked the picture immediately it was suggested to me by Scott Pack, my publisher at the Friday Project, was that it features a beautiful image of a woman's hands. Female hands are the subject of one of Shakespeare's most beautiful sonnets (amongst the 32 sonnets quoted in full in the text) and female hands are the subject, too, of one of my two imitation sonnets.

No doubt one should allow for diverse opinions, not least on the internet. Another largely favourable and beautifully written review by Sally Zigmond criticises these same two "imitation" sonnets because they "suffer by comparison with Shakespeare". It would be very surprising if they didn't! But just so the reader can judge for his or her self the effectiveness or otherwise of my two imitation sonnets, I'm going to include them both below.

The first occurs when Shakespeare is incensed on discovering that the Earl of Southampton's formidable and Machiavellian guardian Lord Burghley has encouraged his secretary, John Clapham, to write a poem called Narcissus which accuses the youthful Southampton of narcissism, and admonishes him for not turning his thoughts to marriage. Lord Burghley's motive appears obvious because several years before he used his position as Chancellor of the Court of Wards to arrange a marriage contract between the underage Southampton and his own granddaughter, Elizabeth de Vere, which neither of the youthful parties wishes to follow. In response, Shakespeare writes the following sonnet criticising Burghley's role in instigating Narcissus:

Lord of laughter, you showed me Narcissus,
A poem whose heart is hollowed by power;
Falsely addressed, it pretends to kiss us,
Telling of beauty, Cupid’s sweet bower;
Yet cold hearts form cold minds, eyes lose their sight;
Stealing our childhood, it counsels good faith.
Framed by deceit, the sun’s fatal glower
Reversing all virtue, makes permanent night.
In hell’s own smithies, Authority labours,
Shadow on shadow, reversing the year;
And what is more wretched, than making wretched,
When, lacking all mercy, he sheds no tear?
Then punish him not for what he may say;
A mind without light can never see day.

Afterwards, I make it clear that the poem does not survive, because Southampton -- after being amused by its sentiments -- instructs Shakespeare to destroy it in order not to put himself at risk from the formidable Lord Burghley.

The second imitation sonnet occurs when Shakespeare has been rejected in his suit by Emilia Bassano, one of the main historical candidates for the "dark lady". She was also the mistress of Shakespeare's theatrical patron, Lord Hunsdon, a cousin of Queen Elizabeth. In the course of rejecting Shakespeare, Emilia bites the poet's hand, and admonishes him "not to bite the hand that feeds" him. When the wily old Hunsdon notices Shakespeare's bandaged hand, and asks him what was the cause of the wound, Shakespeare replies, "A faithful female hound." Hunsdon, guessing that Shakespeare was bitten by his mistress, admonishes him not to test the patience of "faithful female hounds" in future. Accordingly, in my second imitation sonnet Shakespeare addresses his rejection by Emilia and mentions the subjects of hounds and women's hands, amongst others:

If I hear music in the painted day,
Drawing myself towards those fateful sounds,
And all my thoughts move outward to the lay,
Like lines of scent on which run faithful hounds,
Then I must hide my thoughts in careful praise
Which, praising you, fall short of what I feel.
If I should moan your loss, make better days
The sad account of my most bitter meal,
Your fingers on the cloth, touching their hem,
Press me to sit and watch your subtle hands;
The singular white thoughts which rise from them,
Graceful as hinds towards that hidden land.
O, let me sit beside you while you play,
Allowing thoughts to alter night for day.

As with the first imitation sonnet, I tried to signal to the reader that the poem did not survive (in this case Shakespeare burns it immediately after writing it) and that therefore it was my own construction.

Wednesday, 19 November 2008

How well will Obama govern?

I have supported Barack Obama in his presidential campaign since I had the opportunity to read both of his published books earlier this year. I agree with the sentiments of Joe Klein, who asked rhetorically whether Dreams from my Father was the greatest autobiography ever written by a politician. Obama's other book, The Audacity of Hope, which sets out his political philosophy, is also a work of remarkable political and philosophical accomplishment. For what it is worth, I have already opined in other posts that Obama has the finest intellect to approach the White House since the Enlightenment.

Given such remarkable developments, it pleases me that the most visited posting on this blog is Barack Obama's early poems published on 8 February this year. Reading these remarkable early poems -- written when Obama was about nineteen -- first alerted me to the suspicion that, as Jonathan Raban has expressed elsewhere, whereas most political candidates are politicians who try their hand at writing, Obama is a writer attempting to be a politician.

A brilliant philosophical and literary intellect doesn't, of course, mean that Obama will make a great president, though I suspect it will be, at the very least, a fascinating and historically important administration. The most interesting question, for me at least, is which of the two strains of left wing tradition will he follow? Will his administration reflect the authoritarian, interventionist philosophy of an administration such as New Labour in the UK? Or might it follow instead an older classical liberal creed like, for example, that of Gladstone, who placed greater emphasis on expanded individual freedoms, civil rights, increasing the range the choices of the individual, and who considered it his sacred duty to bind Leviathan.

Both philosophies are implicit in Obama's written work. He is clearly a supporter of Roosevelt's New Deal, and of what he believes should be a constructive interventionism. But he also demonstrates a formidable understanding of the wider benefits of the free market, a view which he underlines by comparing the historical material advances of America's working classes with the living standards of other states which he has come to know at first hand -- such as Indonesia (where he lived for several years as a child with his mother and stepfather) and Kenya, the land of his father.

In this arena, it will be interesting to see how Obama handles the current crisis in the U.S. motor industry, and the proposed huge loan of $25 billion thought necessary to tide General Motors, Chrysler and Ford over the current crisis. For what it is worth, as an advocate of the Gladstonian tradition, I would not support massive state funds to three failing companies -- companies which were failing even in the recent boom times -- but instead do everything I could to limit the damage to the workers in that industry as it undergoes fundamental restructuring. Such restructuring, which would take place largely under free market pressures as viable elements are sold off and other car production companies took up the slack, would move the motor industry away from a few quasi-monopolistic behemoths to a larger number of smaller, more efficient and profitable units. In the shorter term, that would undoubtedly entail a loss of jobs in the industry, at least until the smaller units could begin to expand again. Those reconstruction pains to workers are what the administration should seek to ameliorate through state help if necessary.

A huge loan to failing companies is more likely to drain away funds from other areas (such as green energy investment) and -- at the most -- put off the evil day. Meanwhile, the chances are that the viability of the three big motor corporations will decrease further, and the "investment" will be lost. After that it will simply become a huge charge on further generations which will have to be recouped through higher tax.

Because I am British, I tend to view politics within a British political frame. It does not seem to me a coincidence that the greatest intellects in the British progressive tradition combined a left wing social agenda (Gladstone, for example, was anti-imperialist and in favour of Irish home rule) with a fierce belief in the wealth-creating and wealth-redistributing capabilities of the free market. In the current political climate, "supply-side" economics is associated with Reagan. But Gladstone was if anything a more formidable and much earlier practitioner of supply side economics during the latter part of the nineteenth century. He believed a smaller tax burden stimulated the economy. In his time as Chancellor, he presided over a reduction in income tax in stages from 8p in the pound to 3p in the pound. At each reduction of one penny in the pound, his revenues increased. He thought income tax (which was first imposed in order to raise extra funds for war) was iniquitous in principle and represented a huge intrusion of state power into the private affairs of citizens. Now that's what I call a real left-winger. Unfortunately, Gladstone never managed to achieve his aim of eliminating income tax completely and basing all tax instead on consumption.

In a modern world in which high consumption is thought to threaten the planet, surely it is time to revisit the notion that income tax (which is responsible for approximately half of raised tax) should be replaced by a "green" scaled purchase tax. Such a tax, absent or minimal on essentials such as food, could be scaled up when it comes to luxury items and increased further when it comes to high carbon items or behaviours such as gas-guzzling four wheel drives. Individuals would have the freedom to purchase what they require, but if they invest in goods with a high carbon imprint the raised tax will more than offset that carbon imprint. 

There are a number of other huge advantages to an economy in which income tax had been replaced by a scaled purchase tax. In left wing, civil libertarian terms, abolition of income tax would cut at a stroke the massive intrusion by the state into an individual's private affairs which raising income tax entails, and eliminate a great bureaucratic burden from people's lives. In addition, by paying high amounts of tax on certain luxury or non-essential items, purchase tax would become a largely voluntary tax. Strategic questions such as whether we should now shift to a "green" purchase tax economy are precisely the type of questions which a clear and original thinker such as Obama should be addressing.

In foreign policy, it will be interesting to see whether an intellect as incisive as Obama's will also direct itself at some of the underlying structural anomalies in the more troubled parts of the world. Speaking as an anti-imperialist, I am perhaps overly sensitive to the fact that Iraq is a country created by British imperial bureaucrats, who decided it would be best if three ancient kingdoms or principalities were merged into one. If this is so, why should the current American administration consider it a sine qua non to maintain the integrity of a state created by British imperial views in the early twentieth century? My hope is that a politician like Obama would consider a policy of decentralisation into smaller, more organic states or cultures as a long term means of resolving inherent conflicts. Since the current Iraqi constitution already permits a high degree of federal independence, this would entail a strong and clear shift of emphasis rather than a break with the past. The Kurds, in particular, are well on the way to creating a relatively democratic and surprisingly liberal state.

In Afghanistan, too, perhaps there is virtue in recognising that it is too large a country to be governed from Kabul. Instead of hoping for a strongman to replace Karzai and enforce a brutal unity on a highly diverse population, there are grounds for believing Afghanistan could be reformed in a strongly federal direction, taking into account regional cultures and traditions. If this were combined with a more constructive attitude towards poppy cultivation, still the most profitable crop in many areas for rural peasant cultures, with the administration purchasing the product directly from farmers for international medicinal purposes, a crucial economic link between peasants and terrorists or extremists would be broken.

In more general terms, there is strong evidence that smaller states are more economically viable than larger states, despite the traditional arguments in favour of economies of scale and the supposed advantages of large internal markets -- the later undermined by our increasingly globalised world. At its most direct, the hypothesis that small states are more economically viable is testable. I should like to predict, for example, that if average income per capita is compared with the overall population of states, there will emerge a clear correlation between average income and the smallness of the state in question.

There is plenty of opportunity for a first-rate political intellect to consider such fundamental questions in this crisis-strewn world. America's voters have already made a remarkable decision in choosing a new African-American president of such promise and potency. Like many others, I will be studying the Obama administration with close interest in the months to come.

Wednesday, 15 October 2008

Norman Thomas di Giovanni - a wonderful new web-site

Norman Thomas di Giovanni, the great translator of Borges into English, was the subject of an earlier post of mine in April this year. He has recently set up a marvellous new web-site called - as one might expect - Norman Thomas di Giovanni which I suspect will soon become one of the leading literary destinations on the internet. It is a miscellany of translations, essays, travel journals, some of which deals with di Giovanni's classic work on Borges and much of which explores his own personal interests and obsessions.

Di Giovanni is a powerful and pungent essayist in his own right. What is fascinating for me personally is that in the course of reading these essays, memoirs and reminiscences one gains a direct, almost visceral insight into di Giovanni's own contribution to the Borges/di Giovanni translations. The striking economy and force of di Giovanni's own work help one to appreciate that those twentieth century masterpieces of translation were truly, as Borges himself said, the work of two minds operating as one - not so much translations as recreations of Borges' Spanish originals in the English language.

There is a further section in which di Giovanni publishes new or unknown work from friends and fellow writers. Among the various pieces on offer is one of the great unpublished poems of our time called Dosser, by Francis Spencer. I cannot recommend the web-site too highly for those of a literary disposition. It is nothing less than a literary treasure trove.

Sunday, 12 October 2008

THE SONNETS - a new novel


I apologise for being absent from my blogs for several months. It seems, looking back, I have spent much of this summer revising various texts and proofs of forthcoming publications. This winter is likely to see publication of three different works. Having not been published in this country since 2000 (The Marriage of Souls) this is rather a heady prospect.

The first is my novel of The Sonnets, which is due to be be published in a limited, signed edition in hardback on November 3rd by The Friday Project, an imprint of Harper Collins. Scott Pack and his colleagues at TFP have overseen a beautiful-looking production (the front cover image is shown here). Paperback publication is due next year.

The Sonnets is set in 1592-4, when the London theatres were closed by plague and William Shakespeare was forced to earn his living by other means. The twenty-nine-year-old Shakespeare was fortunate to find a patron in the youthful Earl of Southampton, then nineteen, to whom he dedicated his long poems Venus and Adonis and The Rape of Lucrece. The Sonnets is written from Shakespeare's perspective, and recounts Shakespeare's struggles to survive and write during those arduous and brutal times. 

Thirty-two of Shakespeare's full sonnets are integrated into the narrative. One of my interests was to use a fictional form as a framework for some of Shakespeare's most well-known sonnets. A further interest in setting The Sonnets in this period was to recount the struggle between two powerful aristocrats. The Earl of Southampton had lost his father aged eight and his legal guardian was the brilliant but Machiavellian Lord Burghley, Chancellor of the Court of Wards and Queen Elizabeth's most influential adviser. Where Southampton loved the arts, Burghley regarded the theatre in particular as deeply seditious. The Sonnets recounts the conflict between these two powerful men, with Shakespeare a reluctant pawn between their opposed interests.

I shall be posting more blogs below on the progress of these various books over the next few months.