With the death of the poetic genius John Ashbery, whose poems, translations, and criticism made him, to my mind, the most influential American poet since TS Eliot, 21st century poetry is moving into less certain territory.
Over the past few years, we have lost most of the truly great of our era: Edwin Morgan, Gunn, Hill, Heaney and Walcott, to name just five. There are many more, of course. This is news too sad and deep to fathom this week. I will write more perhaps later.
I had a letter from Ashbery on my wall, and it inspired me daily. He gave me advice for my PhD. He said kind things about a poetry book of mine.
He was a force for good serious play in poetry, and his appeal great. So many people I know and admire are at a loss this week because of his death. It is no consolation at present to think of the many thousands of living poets, just right now. But impressively, and even oddly, poetry itself seems to keep flowing.
Over the past few years, we have lost most of the truly great of our era: Edwin Morgan, Gunn, Hill, Heaney and Walcott, to name just five. There are many more, of course. This is news too sad and deep to fathom this week. I will write more perhaps later.
I had a letter from Ashbery on my wall, and it inspired me daily. He gave me advice for my PhD. He said kind things about a poetry book of mine.
He was a force for good serious play in poetry, and his appeal great. So many people I know and admire are at a loss this week because of his death. It is no consolation at present to think of the many thousands of living poets, just right now. But impressively, and even oddly, poetry itself seems to keep flowing.
Comments