Literary Advent Calendar | 4th-7th December

So my plan to catch up went completely out the window.

To avoid that happening again, this blog will mostly catch up on the days missed. Tomorrow's blog will (hopefully) cover the 8th-12th and then it will be up to date.

4TH DECEMBER

"The Voice" by Thomas Hardy

Woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me,

Saying that now you are not as you were

When you had changed from the one who was all to me,

But as at first, when our day was fair.

Can it be you that I hear? Let me view you, then,

Standing as when I drew near to the town

Where you would wait for me: yes, as I knew you then,

Even to the original air-blue gown!

Or is it only the breeze, in its listlessness

Travelling across the wet mead to me here,

You being ever dissolved to wan wistlessness,

Heard no more again far or near?

      Thus I; faltering forward,

      Leaves around me falling,

Wind oozing thin through the thorn from norward,

      And the woman calling.

This was the poem that we studied in my taster lecture for UEA, and I used it after that for my A2 exam. It is a really great poem, and I would certainly have no problem analysing this if I had to.

5TH DECEMBER

"Doomsday" by JR Mortimer

  

The violins for the old photos,

The dead footprints in Europe snow,

The grey monuments eternalised,

The hats brought out the same day.

The bright sun blighted in haze,

The eyes shut and intermittent,

The beach, the beach, the beach,

The sacrifice from my window.

The floorboards bearing weight,

The ending of time has come,

The clock sparks on its fall down.

The beach, the beach, the beach,

The statement in forgotten rain.

So I said I may end up posting some poems by me and here one is! I'm planning to do a new author every day, so this may end up being the only one, but I hope you enjoy.

6TH DECEMBER

"Terminal" by Thom Gunn

 The eight years difference in age seems now

Disparity so wide between the two

That when I see the man who armoured stood

Resistant to all help however good

Now helped through day itself, eased into chairs,

Or else led step by step down the long stairs

With firm and gentle guidance by his friend,

Who loves him, through each effort to descend,

Each wavering, each attempt made to complete

An arc of movement and bring down the feet

As if with that spare strength he used to enjoy,

I think of Oedipus, old, led by a boy.

I studied this briefly last year, and it's a heartbreaking poem, but it's so well written. I'll try and move onto slightly more upbeat poems after the last three, none of which have been happy, but I really feel this is a poem everyone should read.

7TH DECEMBER

"This Be The Verse" by Philip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   

    They may not mean to, but they do.   

They fill you with the faults they had

    And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn

    By fools in old-style hats and coats,   

Who half the time were soppy-stern

    And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.

    It deepens like a coastal shelf.

Get out as early as you can,

    And don’t have any kids yourself.

 

I'm not sure about happy, but there's always an argument amongst family at Christmas, isn't there? For pure audacity, I really do like this poem, and I can't see many writers tackling it. It doesn't surprise me that Larkin did.