Thursday, March 06, 2014


Reading Kevin Jackson’s superb Constellation of Genius, about all the extraordinary artistic, cultural, political and scientific jiggery-pokery that happened in 1922, Ulysses, The Waste Land, Pound, Stravinsky, Stalin, Chaplin, Satchmo, Kandinsky and all. And a random but telling bit of arithmetic pops into my head: the mid-point between that year and this year is 1968 — the year I was born and another that’s had whole books written about it. For some reason I find this disquieting. And I can’t decide whether I ought to write a poem or start a revolution.

1 comment:

Annie said...

Write a poem that will start a revolution?

I don't know if you heard The Waste Land on Radio 4, it was magnificent

'Eliot originally considered titling the poem He do the Police in Different Voices' - I never knew that...