Kent and Sussex Poetry
Society
Secretary’s
Report, October 2001
As I write this, it is raining bombs, missiles
and ‘humanitarian’ aid parcels on Afghanistan. This comes less than a month
after the terrorist horrors on New York, my home town. What, I ask myself, is
poetry’s role in the midst of such events? Are the arts seen as frivolous when
such dark days of violence and uncertainty
eclipse our world?
A
poem written by WH Auden on the eve of the Second World War has, perhaps,
answered that question. It has in recent weeks been rediscovered by many
stricken Americans. In despair, Auden challenged himself to “show an affirming
flame.”
That
is perhaps what we are all looking for in these times - affirmation. A way to
express what goes on within us, and what we are becoming, when the world
outside seems completely beyond our control. So it seems, people are turning to
the arts - to music, drama and yes, poetry, more than ever.
Recapping the year of our society is always an interesting exercise. What
stands out? For a start, the two Saturday writing workshops we held at the
Beacon. These were led by Carole Satyamurti and Gregory Warren in November, and
Michael Lasky in June; and they allowed for a creative and cerebral flexing of
the muscles, and a pretty top rate lunch too.
Meeting the poets, and getting a chance to share a meal with them or a drink,
has been a privilege which my role as secretary, or head ‘meeter and greeter’
allows me. Our reputation as a ‘friendly and lively’ group seems to be growing.
Poets are not only given the name of a venue and time to show up for a reading,
but are met off the train, welcomed, and allowed some time to warm to Tunbridge
Wells and to us. We are the beneficiaries of
this hospitality, it seems, as a relaxed, well-fed poet is always a
better poet when it comes to a reading. Well that’s my philosophy anyway.
In
January I didn’t have to meet or greet anyone however, as we had our
traditional evening of giving three of our very own selected members the
floor. This year it was the turn of
Caroline Price, Lynne Rees and Steve Walter. A huge variety, a total treat.
In
February, Jean Sprackland gave us her own unique take on life, love and ‘tattoos for mother’s day’. Striking images, memorable.
Then in March, Maura Dooley held the crowd (always a crowd in March) in
suspense as the winners were announced for the annual poetry competition. She
told us that as she sifted through the 1500 or so poems sent to her in a
‘terrifyingly large box,’ it was like taking the temperature of the Nation. She
admitted that some poems are best kept at home in a drawer, but she encouraged
us to keep writing, to keep ‘casting the bottles on the waves.’
In April, Graham Fawcett gave what is starting to turn into an annual talk,
this time on T.S. Eliot. Sadly, I was abroad on that date, but word has it we
want him back again. Fawcett, not Eliot I mean. (Our budget doesn’t stretch
quite that far, nor our powers).
In May, Martyn Crucefix came along to give us the results of this year’s Folio
selection and to read his own poems. Before the winners were announced, he led us through the complex and fascinating
series of hoops our poems had to jump through,
which led him ultimately ‘to choose, to discriminate, to bring out the
razor and the cliché sensors.” Congratulations to the 20 members who survived
the process, and especially Clive Eastwood, who bagged first prize, and Mary
Barry, Angela Hall and Caroline Price, whose poems were ‘highly commended.’
June brought David Constantine. I had previously taken a poetry workshop with
him at the National Gallery and knew we would be in for a treat. Unfortunately,
a work commitment kept me from being there on the night in Tunbridge Wells, but
word has it that his reading was warm
and full of insight and showed why David is one of the most respected poets
around.
In
July, something completely different. Instead of our usually damp outdoors
event, we liaised with Oakwood Park Grammar School, and had Moniza Alvi, who
conducted writing workshops with the students earlier in the day, and gave a
dynamic reading in the evening for the students and our society. Thank you
Chris Renshaw, for arranging this special event.
Last
month, in September, we were treated to the strikingly spare, sensual lines of
Anne-Marie Fyfe. It’s not the first
time our Society has heard her read. As one of the winners of our poetry
competition a couple of years ago, we got a taste, and decided we wanted her back.
So as not to be constrained by chronology, I’ve saved the final bit of 2000 for
the final part of this report. Can most of you remember back to November 2000?
In my memory, the world seemed a more innocent place, as we held our
traditional November liaison with Tonbridge School. This time it was in their
sparkling new, acoustically-correct E.M. Forster Theatre, and on stage (yes a
real stage) was not only the poet Steward Conn, but the Irish music and song of
the Sean Tyrrell Duo. A spirited combination and we mustn’t forget the nice
sandwiches and wine, either.
Then there was the annual Christmas bash at Lynne Rees’ house. Thank you, thank
you, thank you Lynne for putting up with us all these years. It’s been exciting
and even dramatic at times. And yes, you deserve a break from the champagne
pouring. This Christmas you can be a guest in someone else’s house for a
change.
Well,
October is here, and for 14 lucky writing members, that means it’s time to go
on retreat, one of the highlights of the year for many of us. Last year it was
wet and rural Norfolk, though the isolation and poor weather did encourage
people to stay indoors and write.
Not only do these weeks produce some good writing but the interplay of ideas
during the evening workshops is a very postive gain.
This year it’s South Devon, in what sounds like a particularly grand manor
house, including many ensuite bedrooms and open fires. At least on paper.
Surprises are always a big feature of the week.. so watch this space.
Joyce
Mandel Walter
Secretary,
8th October, 2001