dumbfoundry

I was told to read Larkin because he swore a lot. The advice came from a friend at school, and a few weeks later I found a copy of the Collected Poems in a bookshop on Charing Cross Road. It was the first edition, with a pale cream cover and a drawing of Larkin's bulbous head floating in the centre like a slightly bookish alien. The first poem, which I read standing at the counter, was Going, which begins,

There is an evening coming in
Across the fields, one never seen before,
That lights no lamps.

And ends,

Where has that tree gone, that locked
Earth to the sky? What is under my hands
That I cannot feel?
What loads my hands down?

I remember being hooked by that, and it's a feeling that hasn't diminished in the 10 or so years I've been reading Larkin. [...]

This entry was posted by eeksypeeksy on Wednesday, March 21, 2007 at 1:05 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.