Just reached the Moortown sequence in the great TH read-through. I knew I would enjoy the poems, this being one of my favourite books from Hughes. (My original copy lost somehow in the move to this Far Place. I assume someone took it from Tony's place where I left it. Possibly Tony himself. Whoever has it/had it, good! A book to savour.) What I didn't know was just how explosively wonderful the poems would be this time round. Starting with Rain, the first in the sequence. I always thought of it as a solid, well-observed, but not exactly spectacular piece of writing. Workmanlike.
How wrong I was. Every line hit me with its power, its integrity to the experience. Even the most straightforward was utterly right. Describing the cows in the rain: They are ruining their field and they know it. He's right, isn't he? A line perfect in its knowingness. I felt the rain, reading. It cut through me.
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