Larkin and Friends
A new piece for Engelsberg Ideas
I’ve written something for Engelsberg Ideas about Philip Larkin's Oxford Anthology of Twentieth Century English Verse, which was published fifty years ago last month (a hook's a hook). You can read it here.
Larkin's anthology is often and perhaps rightly remembered for its idiosyncrasies. Yet, those idiosyncrasies led him to some brilliant poems - and poets - which might otherwise have been overlooked. The assembly process also forced Larkin to reconsider at least some of his own ideas about modern poetry - and raised some provocative questions about what anthologies are for.
It’s also reminder that Larkin wasn't always the isolated figure he is sometimes made out to be. In his 1993 biography, Andrew Motion expressed some surprise that his friend had even agreed to the commission. But he also placed the anthology in the context of the various other ways in which Larkin was supporting other poets at the time: serving on committees, judging awards, reviewing books (Larkin chaired the Poetry Book Society during the 1980s, though oddly they don’t mention this much in their advertising). Though the opportunity to edit the anthology came about by chance (the publisher's first choice, Louis MacNeice, had died unexpectedly) it could be seen as a culmination of Larkin’s efforts to support other writers and poetry as a public art.
At the same time, in Andrew Motion's account, the book was also a turning point. Larkin, Motion argues, ultimately found the experience of returning to Oxford deeply depressing. Once safely back in Hull, he settled ever more deeply into his self-imposed isolation. That lingering, unavoidable sense of isolation extends to how we read Larkin’s poems. I often get the feeling that besides the so-called Movement Larkin is rarely read in the context of his contemporaries. He stands alone. This is as true for readers as it is for critics. On the one hand, Larkin isn’t a popular subject at universities. On the other, I often talk to people who say that they don't read much modern poetry, besides Larkin. There’s a disconnect.
This is a shame. Larkin wasn't always generous about his contemporaries, but he can still be a rewarding guide to other writers. One example besides the anthology would be his well-documented admiration for the poet Gavin Ewart. Other connections demand a little more.. deduction. The Philip Larkin Society's conference last year, for instance, included a paper from Will May on Larkin's borrowings from Stevie Smith.1
I don't think Larkin's isolation, self-imposed and otherwise, does his own poetry any favours, either. If we had a wider, richer view of post-war poetry, and of Larkin’s place within in it, we might finally be able to stop treating him as a 'national monument', with all the depreciating luggage that has entailed. And we might be able to appreciate his real legacy - the poetry - a little more clearly.
The Society, incidentally, aims to promote understanding and appreciation of Larkin's work, but also of the work of the poet’s contemporaries.