poetrymill

The Anthony Howell kicked the evening off with his poem, “My Part in the Downfall of Everything” (‘From Inside’, publ. by The High Window Press). This is a long poem, introduced as ‘a satire on deceit’.  It was also a furious poem, navigating the last century via the deceit of the Nazi machinery of demagoguery.  “‘Use a plane and the shavings fall’ said Goering” a sinister metaphor construed as Nazi-sloganeering which reverberates and repeats throughout the poem.  Howell’s reading was a passionate reckoning with all that has been, and is, false, including today’s ‘post-truth’ society. Neither Howell, nor by implication the audience, escape unsullied: “My part in the downfall of everything, includes my inability to do anything”.

It was a privilege to hear Anthony Howell read; he has great presence and a wonderful delivery; while both heartfelt, erudite and confrontative, the poem was nevertheless a challenge for the listener to stay with. I was finding myself feeling lectured to and told. Perhaps this is entirely the intention – sit up and take note!  I am fully sympathetic both with the rage at the horrors of the last century, and with the ongoing destruction of reliable information through fake news, and Howell certainly hit a raw nerve with the final lines, but for me it was breathlessly didactic.
Nevertheless, I am interested in the poet’s intolerance of deceit…beyond the breathlessness of this read-out-loud rage, I am curious about how a slower absorption of the poems might change them when they are read and re-read in the more intimate setting of the mind’s eye – and ear.

David Cooke is the founder and editor of The High Window, a well-known and excellent online literary journal.  Tonight, he read five poems during the first half of the evening. These were on the subject of his parents and his childhood. His family, originally from Ireland, were brought to life with gentle but unsentimental affection. For me the poem, ‘Shadow Boxing’ was especially moving and engaging in its description of his relationship to his father. The poem’s rhymes and half-rhymes beautifully echoed the ‘tip-toe springiness’ (from the first stanza) of a good boxer, his father so delighted in. ‘The Leaving Cert’ David’s final poem was a celebration of his mother, her intellectual prowess and resilient character. The poem was authentic and unpretentious, making the highly skilled feel elegant!  Sadly, I had to miss Anthony Howell and David Cooke’s second readings after the break but I am now enjoying Cooke’s collection, ‘The Metal Exchange.’ (2022, Littoral Press)

The open mic, which Marian Eastwood compèred with great kindness and inclusivity, featured around 13 poets, all very different. There were poems on grief, loss, the joy of being alive and the inhumanity of war. There were ‘spoken word’ poets and ‘page’ poets, even a poet whose poem, ‘If This is the Day I Die’ was then repeated as an exquisite lyrical song, performed by a sonorous, pre-recorded baritone voice. 

The open mic encapsulated one of poetry’s enduring gifts – it brought together in one room many voices…  a shared space… and as can happen, it was an experience of community, it was indeed an evening that was ‘more than the sum of its parts.’

Tonight’s readings took place at the Stephen A. Schwartzman Centre for the Humanities, Oxford. This is a new addition to Oxford University and the building is in one word – magnificent! It is already in use as an academic facility, bringing together 7 humanities faculties amongst others, but the centre will open fully for public use in April 2026 and promises a varied and interesting programme of events for the coming year.