For memorial reasons, I’ve read, to myself and, occasionally, aloud to assembled others, a lot of Frank O’Hara this year. I read quite a lot of O’Hara most years. And I’ve read a little Robert Hass more days than not.
This list recognises the other poetry collections I’ve read and enjoyed most in the past twelve months.
Rachael Allen : Faber New Poets 9 (2014)
Edwina Attlee : The Cream (Clinic, 2016)
Sam Buchan-Watts : Faber New Poets 15 (2016)
Matthew Caley : Rake (Bloodaxe, 2016)
Maura Dooley : The Silvering (Bloodaxe, 2016)
Janet Fisher : Life and Other Terms (Shoestring, 2015)
Marilyn Hacker : A Stranger’s Mirror (Norton, 2015)
Lee Harwood : The Books (Longbarrow Press, 2011)
Ian McMillan : Jazz Peas (Smith/Doorstop, 2014)
Helen Mort : No Map Could Show Them (Chatto, 2016)
Peter Sansom : Careful What You Wish For (Carcanet, 2015)
Judi Sutherland & Jim Burns : Dark Matter (The Black Light Engine Room Press, 2016)
Barry Wallenstein : Drastic Dislocations (New York Quarterly Boks, 2012)
Matthew Welton : The Number Poems (Carcanet, 2016)
I was back at Goldsmiths College in New Cross on Wednesday evening, there to talk some of the students enrolled on the current Creative Writing MA programme, taught by Maura Dooley and Blake Morrison. Under the banner, My Life as a Jobbing Writer, I glossed through my forty years as a professional author, from my chancy beginnings as Thom Ryder, fictional chronicler of Britain’s Hells Angels, through almost 50 westerns and on, via some classy dramatic adaptations for radio and television, to my latter life as crime writer and sometime poet. It was fun to do – I think, of interest – and I tell you what – doesn’t that old pulp artwork look good blown up on the big screen!
A number of the questions revolved around the twin poles of artistic integrity and commercial imperatives, and I only wish I’d had the following, from Colm Toibin’s essay on Henry James, The Lessons of the Master, on hand to help with my answer.
All of his life as a writer James worried about both the purity of his work and the making of money. It was as though he himself were a married couple. One part of him cared for the fullness of art and the other part for the fullness of the cupboard.