Skip to main content

Larkin Attic

Philip Larkin, pictured above, one of England's greatest poets since Hardy, and arguably, after Empson, the least in terms of actual output, has come back from the grave - just in time for a new ban (this time not on Lady Chatterley but cigarettes in pubs) - in the form of voice recordings found in a desolate attic. I have an image of someone bursting in.

At any rate, this is jolly good news, and I can't wait to hear them. I have always had a Larkin fetish (I say fetish because it is slightly seedy to adore Larkin's work as much as I do. I like the fact he published collections spaced about a decade apart - '45, '55, '64, '74, and each one of them was arguably the most exciting book of their decade).

I'll have to figure out a way to get one for Oxfam, too, come to think of it...

In the meantime, here's the article from The Telegraph:

Unknown Larkin tapes found in attic
By Chris Hastings (Filed: 12/02/2006)

Unheard tapes of Philip Larkin reading some of his most famous works have been found in the attic of one of his closest friends.

The discovery of the recordings, made by Larkin in a makeshift studio in 1980, are being hailed as one of the most significant literary finds in recent years.

On the tapes, Larkin, who refused the title of poet laureate, reads 25 of his favourite poems, including three from his first important collection The North Ship, which was published in 1945.
It had been thought that the poet, who died of throat cancer aged 63 in 1985, never recorded any of the works from this collection.

Larkin also reads selections from The Less Deceived, published in 1955, The Whitsun Weddings, 1964, and High Windows, 1974.

The tapes, which have been authenticated by both the Society of Authors and The Philip Larkin Society, were produced in the converted garage of John Weeks, a former BBC sound engineer who met the poet while they were working at the University of Hull.

Mr Weeks, who died in 1995, made hundreds of tapes about life in the seaside town of Hornsea, near Hull, where he lived.

The Larkin recordings were found after Mr Week's widow Molly asked her son Peter to catalogue the collection. "I knew my father knew Larkin but I had no idea about the tapes. I am sure they have never been heard outside the garage," he said.

Andrew Motion, the poet laureate, who is one of Larkin's literary executors, welcomed the discovery. He said: "I didn't realise he had made any recordings from The North Ship so this is a significant find."

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

IQ AND THE POETS - ARE YOU SMART?

When you open your mouth to speak, are you smart?  A funny question from a great song, but also, a good one, when it comes to poets, and poetry. We tend to have a very ambiguous view of intelligence in poetry, one that I'd say is dysfunctional.  Basically, it goes like this: once you are safely dead, it no longer matters how smart you were.  For instance, Auden was smarter than Yeats , but most would still say Yeats is the finer poet; Eliot is clearly highly intelligent, but how much of Larkin 's work required a high IQ?  Meanwhile, poets while alive tend to be celebrated if they are deemed intelligent: Anne Carson, Geoffrey Hill , and Jorie Graham , are all, clearly, very intelligent people, aside from their work as poets.  But who reads Marianne Moore now, or Robert Lowell , smart poets? Or, Pound ?  How smart could Pound be with his madcap views? Less intelligent poets are often more popular.  John Betjeman was not a very smart poet, per se....

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you..."

In terms of great films about, and of, love, we have Vertigo, In The Mood for Love , and Casablanca , Doctor Zhivago , An Officer and a Gentleman , at the apex; as well as odder, more troubling versions, such as Sophie's Choice and  Silence of the Lambs .  I think my favourite remains Bram Stoker's Dracula , with the great immortal line "I have crossed oceans of time to find you...".

THE SWIFT REPORT 2023

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 organise...