The smallest of book reviews appears in the
August 23, 1946 Spectator's "New Poetry". Sheila Shannon critiques Grigson's
Isles of Scilly;
Talking Bronco, by Roy Campbell;
The Voyage and Other Poems, by Edwin Muir; and Henry Reed's
A Map of Verona. She begins by invoking the Romantics:
Shelley, in his preface to
The Revolt of Islam, defined as one of the most essential attributes of poetry 'the power of awakening in others sensations like those animate in my own bosom.' It is an attribute often overlooked, this power to communicate not ideas or images but sensations, to reach at some moment the heart of the reader; it is not perhaps the most important, but it is an essential one.
Shannon then devotes half a page to Grigson, spends half a page on Campbell, a mere two paragraphs on Muir, and can finally only lend five sentences to Reed, without so much as a quote.
Henry Reed's first book
A Map of Veronaprovides (I can only say for me) a great deal of enjoyment. Here is a young poet. All sensation if you like; but sensation springing from imagination with the true poet's gift of making the real imaginary. It is highly romantic, young poetry, but written by someone with an ear and a self-indulgent appreciation of words and their musical and evocative power. At present the obvious influence is T.S. Eliot, but Mr. Reed has a strong enough talent to assimilate in time even so seductive a master.
Sheila Shannon (p. 198)
At least they were most favorable sentences! I particularly relish her turn of phrase, about true poets "making the real imaginary."
Sheila Shannon was married to Patric Dickinson, and was both a poet and editor of poetry. Her poems appeared in the
Spectator,
Observer, and
Poetry London, and were collected in
The Lightning-Struck Tower (1947).
A full-length animated version of J.R. Ackerley's memoir,
My Dog Tulip, is set to premiere this May at the Cannes Film Festival. Directed (and animated) by
Paul Fierlinger, the film is voiced by stars Christopher Plummer, Lynn Redgrave, Brian Murray, and Isabella Rossellini. There are several
clips to watch, on the movie's website.
Joe Ackerley was the longtime editor of the BBC's
Listener magazine.
My Dog Tulip (Google Books preview) tells the story of his sixteen-year relationship with Queenie, his cherished German shepherd.
Ackerley and Henry Reed were close friends, and the two were frequent dinner companions in London.
My Dog Tulip, in fact, owes its title to their friendship. In his doting 1989 biography,
Ackerley: A Life, Peter Parker writes that "Reed had pointed out that Queenie's name was something of a drawback and likely to arouse titters amongst the literati" (p. 311). Ackerley was openly gay most of his life, but he nonetheless eventually settled on a pseudonym for his beloved Queenie.
Piddle piddle seal and sign
I'll smell your arse, you smell mine;
Human beings are prudes and bores,
You smell my arse, I'll smell yours.
Now that I look, however, I don't see the film listed in Cannes'
official selection. I hope that doesn't mean we won't be seeing it, soon.