Like Stretch Armstrong, or G.I. Joe, but for real, Evel Knievel became an action figure that no boy or girl in North America, and beyond, could ignore - he was the daredevil of our time, and his monicker itself is worthy of acclaim, requiring a P.T. Barnumesque genius for public appeal to conjure up. Snake River Canyon is not the greatest leap into the unknown - death is - and we all make that jump, some not wearing such entertaining armour. Somehow, in his own showbiz, corny way, he made such stoic confrontations with death (he was, after all, the living embodiment of "death defying") more than a stunt - almost a credo.
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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