A researcher in the BFI archives has uncovered a few poems by WH Auden previously unseen for over 70 years, which is exciting news; less so only when one realises they are translations of "anonymous" Russian songs written in praise of Lenin, for a Stalinist propaganda machine. As an insight into Auden's 30s styles and affiliations, it is fun, even informative. There seems to be little of great poetic value in the new work, though. We knew Auden had Communist sympathies, and we knew he wrote work for film. This isn't news, so much as new grist for the mill.
THAT HANDSOME MAN A PERSONAL BRIEF REVIEW BY TODD SWIFT I could lie and claim Larkin, Yeats , or Dylan Thomas most excited me as a young poet, or even Pound or FT Prince - but the truth be told, it was Thom Gunn I first and most loved when I was young. Precisely, I fell in love with his first two collections, written under a formalist, Elizabethan ( Fulke Greville mainly), Yvor Winters triad of influences - uniquely fused with an interest in homerotica, pop culture ( Brando, Elvis , motorcycles). His best poem 'On The Move' is oddly presented here without the quote that began it usually - Man, you gotta go - which I loved. Gunn was - and remains - so thrilling, to me at least, because so odd. His elegance, poise, and intelligence is all about display, about surface - but the surface of a panther, who ripples with strength beneath the skin. With Gunn, you dressed to have sex. Or so I thought. Because I was queer (I maintain the right to lay claim to that
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