Reading On

Not sure why I found the Brink Road segment of Volume 2 of Ammons's The Complete Poems so unrewarding. I enjoyed a few of the shorter poems, those towards the end of the collection, and the final long poem, Summer Place, was a pleasure to read. But the vast majority of the poems left me unengaged. Perhaps it was a mistake to keep working through Volume 2 after completing the lengthy first volume? Could it be I need a break from Ammons?

The thing is though that I'm now thoroughly engaged by the epic Glare and the kind of difficulty I found in reading most of Brink Road has simply faded away. I suppose I should make an attempt to understand my differing responses but I'm too busy enjoying myself again to make the effort.

Good Company

I thought of Ted Hughes as quite an intimidating figure before reading Christopher Reid's excellent selection of his letters. Not someone you'd mess around with, or intrude upon. Now he strikes me as the quintessential good bloke, someone you'd be happy to spend time with. Likable in an uncomplicated way.

I'm most likely wrong, of course, but the impression is a very real one. And I'm sure he doesn't in any way strive to create it given how unforced and immediate the vast majority of the letters are.

Back To Life

Found ourselves at Changi Airport this evening, having gone there after dinner with Fuad, Rozita & Hakim. Impressively busy - not easy to find parking at Terminal 1. Good to see the place bustling after the quiet of the height of the pandemic. The percentage of the crowd wearing masks appeared lower than you see in the average mall - surprisingly so. Perhaps related to a desire to assert that things are back to something like normal?

Hope that desire isn't misplaced.

Unacceptable

The stories from the UK about the Deputy Prime Minister having a track record of bullying his civil servants over his ministerial career puzzle me. It's not the fact he's a bully - it's easy to see how he would fit the role given his public persona. No, what I don't get is that a substantial number of grown-ups in serious jobs were prepared to let themselves be bullied (to the extent that some were physically ill before meetings, according to the reports.) In my experience, if you make it abundantly clear you're not going to accept any kind of professional bullying then it won't happen. It helps to be able to show you have a viciously bad temper, or the capacity for one, as soon as someone crosses the line. Trust me, they quickly cross back as soon as they realise they've picked the wrong person. 

Obsessional

Now approaching the end of Letters of Ted Hughes, having reached the final decade of the poet's life. Struck by just how much of an obsession his ideas about the tragic equation he saw as underlying Shakespeare's work, as outlined in considerable detail in his extraordinary work Shakespeare and the Goddess of Complete Being, became in the letters over the years. And what strange but compelling ideas they are.

To be honest, I have never managed a 'linear' reading of the Goddess book, finding Hughes's detailed outline of his thesis somewhat overwhelming, though I've found it a great text to dip into. But following the development of the ideas in the letters is quite different. You get a powerful sense of the growth and expansion of the thesis as if TH is working things out as the various letters are written in something akin to real time. It's obvious that this is something that has to be explored and worked through for the writer, and that doing so releases a creative energy.

Hughes is not writing a version of literary criticism in the letters concerning Shakespeare, or in his finished work. He's writing something deeply imaginative and personal and necessary to himself, the value of which lies in the reader's readiness to surrender to the force of his imaginative engagement to expand their own range of response. 

Furthering My Education

The nice thing about being less than expert even with regard to composers I regard as great favourites is that there's always something new to discover. This afternoon a live performance of Messiaen's Trois petites Liturgies de la Presence Devine popped up in my YouTube feed and it struck me that it might well be a good idea to listen to a piece I'd heard good things of but had never actually sat down and listened to. The fact I had a bit of time to spare helped.

It turned out to be a very good idea indeed. As is so often the case with Messiaen, watching expert musicians play the music added considerably to my understanding of what I was listening to.

Delayed

Noi got back from Melaka this morning, arriving home around 9.30. Since she thought she'd get back in the middle of the night, having upped sticks at 11.30 pm, this has to count as very late. The main problem: major jams at Tuas. She reckons it took some three hours to cross. Much as I would have liked to have journeyed with her I must say I'm pleased to have avoided the sheer waste of time involved in crossing between nations. 

Can't imagine what might account for so much traffic being on the road at that time of night. Or why the authorities on both sides can't ensure a reasonably speedy crossing even if things get a bit busier than usual.

Lost And Found

Spent part of the day revisiting the cuts I made quite some time back to Shakespeare's As You Like It when we were considering the play for performance by our drama guys. We're now looking at a July performance, so I thought I'd better start looking at a practical working script in detail. Fortunately the excisions still made sense to me, though I'm now looking to make even more in the interests of pace and not overwhelming the cast with stuff to memorise.

Wielding the blue pencil makes you realise the degree to which the Bard can't resist being dragged by his linguistic inventiveness to add layer upon layer to his dialogue. It's partly decorative, but also an exploration of all the possibilities afforded by the suggestiveness of key images and ideas. I'm aware of much that is being lost, but what's left is so strong that it easily survives the process. 

I feel as if I'm uncovering something fundamental, seeing into the heart of the drama somehow.

Remembrance

The anniversary of dad's death has become for me a day of striving to remember. I don't mean trying to remember things about him - that's easy. Rather I'm talking about remembering the details of the world he has come to represent for me. His sense of decency, for example. Yes, this was an innate part of his character, I guess, but there's a sense in which he was consciously reflecting an aspect of being what was generally considered a 'real gentleman'. A good fit for him, I suspect.

I'm not sure that dad's idea of what constituted the proper way to behave would have any traction in the Manchester of today. The past is quite definitely a different country and achingly far away.

Left Behind

Noi is bustling around making preparations to set off to Melaka. She's travelling up with Rozita & Hakim. I've elected to stay behind given various work-related tasks that need to be attended to. Must say, I'll miss her, but it's only for a day or so, so I'll survive.

Can't say I'll miss making the crossing and its attendant traffic jams, the thought of which weighed something in my decision to stay at home.