William (Bill) Lloyd Has Died

Sad news. William (Bill) Lloyd has died. Bill was the Porter, for the past 18 years, of the Leith Mansion Blocks in Maida Vale - a job he took on in retirement. He was in his 80s, but hard-working and fit. As a younger man he'd been a gymnast and fitness trainer with the British Army (SAS), then a professional footballer with Luton, so he retained that sense of physical confidence. Bill was friendly and liked a drink in his beloved sports club down the road. He had met his partner (20 years his junior) in his late 50s, at a pub, and they instantly connected, as both loved sports. He enjoyed spending time in Greece, when not on the job.

Bill was an exceptionally dedicated and professional porter, from the old school where politeness and excellence mattered. He was known to everyone on the street, and in the many flats he looked over. He made sure that everything was ship-shape, and he didn't tolerate mess, clutter, or too much noise. He was fiercely proud of Mansions, and their quality and traditions. He liked to say there had only been two break ins in his whole time on his watch. Bill and I spoke most days. He'd stand out on the street, outside his office, greeting deliverymen, post persons, and residents. He liked to keep an eye on the neighbourhood. He was serious, but with a wry streak.

He was concerned about people, about the future, and has recently expressed concern about the way the weather was getting bad, in Australia, and elsewhere. I feel bad now, but I said to him "neither of us will be around to see the worst of it". I didn't mean to mention mortality, because I thought of him as strong, and immortal. Bill means a lot to me mainly for one reason - when my wife and I first came to look at our flat, four years or so ago, almost five now, he came out to greet us, and welcome us to the street. He said we'd love it here - which we do. His welcome made our decision to move in more secure. Over these years he was always there, helpful, diligent, and solid as hell. I'll miss him a great deal. I am so sorry he has died. A part of what is best about Wales (where he was born) has died with him.

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. What do I mean by smart?

"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

E Y E W E A R, THE BLOG - FREEDOM MEANS BEING UNAFRAID TO WRITE WHAT YOU THINK

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