Book review: Boris Akunin, “She Lover of Death”

Another Boris Akunin crime mystery, set in Imperial Russia, this time with the year given – 1900. Erast Fandorin investigates a series of suicides linked to a society of death-lovers, but all is not, of course, as it seems and the suicides are being helped on their way by anything from suggestion to murder – [...]

Apparently anything can be poetry, so it seems safe to say this is

So it’s important and you ought to look at it seriously. OK, I’m being ironic: putting something boring, uninspired, mannered or prancingly self-indulgent in short lines in a nice shape and calling it poetry and art doesn’t make it any more worthy of attention than anything else anyone writes or says.   Still, you might [...]

I think these things are poems, though there’s a bit of damage and they’re of no great age. Start me at £20, anyone?

On to re-posting more poems with comments and expolanations of a sort. Here goes: GLASS The glass creation on the shelf In the early morning light refracts, transmutes The arriving light into changing colours and links That fade and reform with the slightest of gentle shifts. If you try to see through it the waving [...]

Instead of poetry, I thought I’d talk about wheelchairs, and quarries, and Halloween masks, and ponds, and knights in armour, and wheelbarrows and rainstorms…

While poetry can be a subject, as in the academic study of poetry, it’s really a mode of communication that can be about anything. In the 18th century the opinion grew in Western Europe that there were subjects and words unsuitable for poetry, which should be genteel and uplifting. Uplifting maybe – via the depths [...]

Of course, no-one, not even the “writer”, can “know” what the poem “means”, but still…

…academics can tie themselves in some fascinating knots and, it is even rumoured, disappear up their own theories. Here’s some more commentary on poems I’ve already posted: EDEN The fruit slipped ripe into the hand The hunting hard, but always good, The trees made shade to sleep within That was the Eden we once knew [...]

This probably isn’t what I meant, if I meant anything, but you never know

So I’ll go on disinterring old posted poems and suggesting some context and meaning. Soon I’ll go back to new postings.   By the way, I have a blog (http://sibathehat.blogspot.com) for everything non-literary, and the leading countries people are visiting the blog from are: Joint 1: U.K. and U.S.A. Vying for third place: France, Germany [...]

Book Reviews: Aravind Adiga: Between the Assassinations; Laurence Sterne: Tristram Shandy

So time to rest from posting poems and do some reviewing of books I’ve just read again. ARAVIND ADIGA: BETWEEN THE ASSASSINATIONS Adiga is well-known as the author of “The White Tiger”, but he was new to me. Here he invents a town in south-west India – Kittur – and strings together a series of [...]

The Immigrant

Back from a week in France and posting again! I think this poem needs little explanation. THE IMMIGRANT The immigrant adjusts his hat Squints at the unfamiliar words Tests the new land with his shoe Some casual abuse Is partly understood The hat is wrong but not the shirt. Wrapped in the now familiar streets [...]

Consumer Boom

  If you are short of a principle Or two or three or more Principles for Men will fit you out They won’t be demanding You won’t have to shout Or break the law   If you’re inclined to change your mind If the conclusions it has come to Aren’t for you Go to the [...]

Sea mist with rain

I live by the sea (not quite within sight of it, but just ten minutes’ walk away). Within a few miles (as the crow or gull flies) are two big ports. This was composed in my mind while walking along the esplanade, looking out at a misty sea.   The sky in infinite shades of [...]

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