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Philip Larkin , what an arsehole.

He was a reactionary shit who explored various aspects of himself, including his reactionary shitness, in poetry.

I don't offer a defence of him or an attack on him by saying that, but there is a line of writers exploring their own shitness. Celine. Mishima. Genet. Burroughs.

Celine is another one who was capable of both great lines and abhorrent ones, and was a shit through and through in life. With Celine, my line was crossed in Journey to the end of the night with bits of the racism. Once it comes across that the author assumes or expects that the reader will agree with the shitness, then it becomes something I don't necessarily want to roll around in any more. But the link between the person and the persona is always a fuzzy one. The response of the artist might be that they have a duty to record the shitness, that this is where their art leads them - all thoughts, however unworthy, exposed to the light.
Aye, that's fair enough. I think Genet's the only one of those I've read, but could definitely add Bukowski to that list, arguably Roth as well. Celine is one where from what I've heard, I imagine I might really like his work, but at the same time from what I know about the man I've just reached the point of deciding... life's short, I'm never going to read everything I want to read, and I'm not going to prioritise reading Celine over like, literally anyone who's not Celine.

I spose the question of how far unpublished work and diaries are fair game is an interesting one as well. On one hand it's like harder to defend because that line of persona isn't really there in the same way, like someone writing a work of art with a racist line might be doing all kinds of things with all kinds of intentions, but someone complaining to their mate that there's too many black people at cricket matches seems quite a bit more straightforward. On the other hand, I suppose the question of how much it's our business comes up - like, I definitely don't think I'd want to be mates with Larkin, but at this stage that seems like it's not going to happen anyway. Idk, I'm trying to not be hypocritical here, and I know I've felt vaguely defensive towards both Woolf and Plath when arguments have come up that also seemed to be mostly based on diaries and unpublished stuff.
 
No-one's ever 'just' one thing, are they? ..

I bet Pam Ayres hasn't got any secret verses in praise of Oswald Mosley hidden in a box in her loft.

Pam Ayers is a former member of the British Secret Services, who spent five years as an agent based in Singapore; so, won't be in the loft but on a encoded on a microdot in plain view in her lounge. It will also be protected by the Official Secrets Act. She can sever a cartoid artery with those teeth.

A cunning and clinical assassin; not a sexually frustrated librarian.
 
Pam Ayers is a former member of the British Secret Services, who spent five years as an agent based in Singapore; so, won't be in the loft but on a encoded on a microdot in plain view in her lounge. It will also be protected by the Official Secrets Act. She can sever a cartoid artery with those teeth.

A cunning and clinical assassin; not a sexually frustrated librarian.
Author of 'Oh I wish I'd looked after my cyanide filled fake tooth'.
 
Pam Ayers is a former member of the British Secret Services, who spent five years as an agent based in Singapore; so, won't be in the loft but on a encoded on a microdot in plain view in her lounge. It will also be protected by the Official Secrets Act. She can sever a cartoid artery with those teeth.

A cunning and clinical assassin; not a sexually frustrated librarian.

I did not know that. Once again we have to separate the art from the person and appreciate her towering body of literary works on its own merit.

Her Wikipedia entry amusingly states that 'Bob Dylan inspired Pam Ayres to write poetry', as if he did it on purpose.
 
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Bib Dylan inspired Pam Ayers and Pam Ayres in turn inspired John Cooper Clarke
 
Aye, that's fair enough. I think Genet's the only one of those I've read, but could definitely add Bukowski to that list, arguably Roth as well. Celine is one where from what I've heard, I imagine I might really like his work, but at the same time from what I know about the man I've just reached the point of deciding... life's short, I'm never going to read everything I want to read, and I'm not going to prioritise reading Celine over like, literally anyone who's not Celine.

I spose the question of how far unpublished work and diaries are fair game is an interesting one as well. On one hand it's like harder to defend because that line of persona isn't really there in the same way, like someone writing a work of art with a racist line might be doing all kinds of things with all kinds of intentions, but someone complaining to their mate that there's too many black people at cricket matches seems quite a bit more straightforward. On the other hand, I suppose the question of how much it's our business comes up - like, I definitely don't think I'd want to be mates with Larkin, but at this stage that seems like it's not going to happen anyway. Idk, I'm trying to not be hypocritical here, and I know I've felt vaguely defensive towards both Woolf and Plath when arguments have come up that also seemed to be mostly based on diaries and unpublished stuff.
Obligatory 'if you like Bukowski, you'll love Fante' post.

I came to Fante via Bukowski, who, well, never stops banging on about him. Wait Until Spring, Bandini is the best book about a teenage boy growing up that I've ever read.
 
That's a disappointment I though that "Philip Larkin , what an arsehole" was one of his lesser known poems that I hadn't read :(

I've compiled a poem from snippets of quotes found in this thread.


Philip Larkin, What an Arsehole

Larkin was a bit of a cock,
It shouldn't come as a surprise
To anyone,
He was rotten,
Horrible horrible man

He was a reactionary shit
Who explored aspects of himself
In poetry
There is a line of writers
Exploring their own shitness

Embarrassing politically, bitter and twisted,
Like an olden day Morrissey

He used most of his racist abuse
In private letters to friends
So it certainly wasn't
A public persona

A porn fiend
He had an arrangement with his solicitor
To have his considerable collection
Removed from his house
When he died
Two big boxes of it

He didn't even have a friend to do it
He had to pay someone
 
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I thought it was common knowledge for at least the last few decades that Larkin was a bit of a cock, it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone.
Why not? I didn't know. People know different stuff :)
 
I don't know much about Larkin, does anyone know how much the defence offered by phildwyer upthread stands up? Like, I'm not familiar with the context for all this, I could believe all that stuff quoted being like strongly worded and provocative, but basically sound, satire like The Male Online/Chris Morris/Jonathan Swift or whoever. Or he could just be a reactionary shit who wrote some vile doggerel, which tbh is what I'm leaning towards. But is there any persuasive argument for the satire/persona argument?

Get his Collected Poems - you'll find few better from the 20th century.

Maybe he was a shit, maybe he wasn't, but trashing his work because of his personal views rather misses the point of art altogether. The attitude is a modern thing, very much in fashion, and wholly negative in its effects.

In the meantime, here's a favourite of mine from his earlier poems:

Next, Please​


Always too eager for the future, we
Pick up bad habits of expectancy.
Something is always approaching; every day
Till then we say,

Watching from a bluff the tiny, clear
Sparkling armada of promises draw near.
How slow they are! And how much time they waste,
Refusing to make haste!

Yet still they leave us holding wretched stalks
Of disappointment, for, though nothing balks
Each big approach, leaning with brasswork prinked,
Each rope distinct,

Flagged, and the figurehead with golden tits
Arching our way, it never anchors; it's
No sooner present than it turns to past.
Right to the last

We think each one will heave to and unload
All good into our lives, all we are owed
For waiting so devoutly and so long.
But we are wrong:

Only one ship is seeking us, a black-
Sailed unfamiliar, towing at her back
A huge and birdless silence. In her wake
No waters breed or break.
 
A very, very basic point here - morality is a variable, not a constant.

It changes over time from era to era.

This vogue for doing a number on long dead artists because they don't conform to how you expect you and your friends to behave now will eventually lead to the more or less total rejection of huge swathes of past culture. And further, if you set that train in motion, it will simply do the same to your current idols in fairly short order. It's a barbaric attitude.
 
I wonder what the split is here between threads calling out famous artists for being cunts v those celebrating genius...?
 
I can appreciate some of Larkin's work, while at the same time being very much aware that he was a vile, bigoted arsehole.

But what can you expect from a man who was taken to the Nuremburg rally by his Dad?
 
Get his Collected Poems - you'll find few better from the 20th century.

Maybe he was a shit, maybe he wasn't, but trashing his work because of his personal views rather misses the point of art altogether. The attitude is a modern thing, very much in fashion, and wholly negative in its effects.
Tbf, the op of this thread is mostly just one of his poems. I think it's reasonable enough if people want to slag his poems off on the grounds that they don't like his poems. I'm wishy-washy and go back and forth on this stuff (so much so that I forgot about this thread and started a whole new one to be indecisive about this stuff on), but to me it sort of seems like it's missing the point of art to argue as though it can be separated from his personal views altogether. Maybe it's one thing if someone's just painting pictures of flowers or squares or something (am open to being corrected on this point by someone who understands more about paintings of flowers than I do), but surely a lot of the point of poetry, especially poetry like Larkin's, is precisely to express a certain way of seeing the world?
 
Tbf, the op of this thread is mostly just one of his poems. I think it's reasonable enough if people want to slag his poems off on the grounds that they don't like his poems. I'm wishy-washy and go back and forth on this stuff (so much so that I forgot about this thread and started a whole new one to be indecisive about this stuff on), but to me it sort of seems like it's missing the point of art to argue as though it can be separated from his personal views altogether. Maybe it's one thing if someone's just painting pictures of flowers or squares or something (am open to being corrected on this point by someone who understands more about paintings of flowers than I do), but surely a lot of the point of poetry, especially poetry like Larkin's, is precisely to express a certain way of seeing the world?
i think what you're driving at is that if the views expressed in (for example) the famous they fuck you up poem were put in the mouth of a character in a play or a novel you might be able to argue that it's a point of view and not necessarily one that the author holds, but when there is no fictional intermediary then it's hard to see any other possible reading other than 'the views expressed here are the author's views'
 
i think what you're driving at is that if the views expressed in (for example) the famous they fuck you up poem were put in the mouth of a character in a play or a novel you might be able to argue that it's a point of view and not necessarily one that the author holds, but when there is no fictional intermediary then it's hard to see any other possible reading other than 'the views expressed here are the author's views'

Do you read much poetry?
 
I found Larkin's book of jazz reviews in a charity shop a while back. It's all the pieces he wrote for the Daily Telegraph from 1961-1971.

He is a great writer, but very grumpy. It's an interesting book because he mainly hates the jazz that I like - modern / hard bop etc onwards.

In the foreword to the book he makes the point that, in contradiction to the reviews, he now quite likes Charlie Parker, because he now sounds better than what followed him. Pretty much the definition of a conservative with a small "c".
 
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How can you not laugh, reading that? It's great! :D
 
I can appreciate some of Larkin's work, while at the same time being very much aware that he was a vile, bigoted arsehole.

But what can you expect from a man who was taken to the Nuremburg rally by his Dad?
His Dad apparently attended some of the rallies but not with Philip. Their visits happened later.
 
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