I am writing this post without much enthusiasm, but with a sense of duty.
This blog will be 20 years old soon, and though I rarely post here anymore, I owe it some attention.
Of course in 2023, "Swift" now means one thing only, Taylor Swift, the billionaire musician. Gone are the days when I was asked if I was related to Jonathan Swift. The pre-eminent cultural Swift is now alive and TIME PERSON OF THE YEAR.
There is no point in belabouring the obvious with delay: 2023 was a low-point in the low annals of human history - war, invasion, murder, in too many nations. Hate, division, the collapse of what truth is, exacerbated by advances in AI that may or may not prove apocalyptic, while global warming still seems to threaten the near-future safety of humanity. It's been deeply depressing.
The world lost some wonderful poets, actors, musicians, and writers this year, as it often does. Two people I knew and admired greatly, Ian Ferrier and Kevin Higgins, poets and organisers of events who impacted their communities immensely died, as did two of Canada's greatest musicians, Gordon Lightfoot and Robbie Robertson.
In happier news, my friend Nik Nanos received the Order of Canada. Well deserved.
Personally, the highlights of the year were spent with friends or family.
If 2023 means anything good, for me, it is that I managed to maintain my heart failure status to the extent of staying alive, and the company I am director of, barely managed to make it through to the fortieth anniversary year of 2024 for Black Spring Press.
I am proud of the over 33 books my team managed to edit and publsh this year.
I have a new poetry collection out soon in January, I hope.
2024 is a daunting year. Trump looms. War continues. I am fighting to keep the press running, a small business facing challenges in a changing industry. Family members and friends face serious health challenges.
My faith is shaken, but I don't want to give up.
I will keep on as long as I can. Too many "Is" here. Ego is the enemy.
Love thy neighbour. Try and be kind. May you find some measure of peace in the darkening storm.
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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Other voices are Sebastian Gault , Scott Vineberg and Sarah Rubinger
My email is bruceflanagan@rogers.com cheers